


love biscuits

by Emlee_J



Series: Biscuits Verse [1]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe, Carrot is Very Fat, Feelings Realization, Fluff and Humor, Getting Together, Humor, Kageyama is a Music Producer, M/M, Needles, Romantic Comedy, hinata is a vet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-03
Updated: 2020-10-24
Packaged: 2021-03-08 04:16:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 33,075
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26789569
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Emlee_J/pseuds/Emlee_J
Summary: Kageyama Tobio leads a simple life: he goes to work and writes music for money, he goes home and writes music for himself. His only company being his beloved cat, Carrot, who is sweet and perfect and perhaps just a little bit spoiled. So when Kageyama takes Carrot to the vets for her annual check-up, only to be told by the new vet she is drastically overweight and needs to go on a diet, he is horrified. And rather insulted.Reluctantly agreeing to put his cat on a diet, Kageyama is at first determined to simply put up with Hinata, his new vet, until Ukai recovers from his bad back and can return. But, unfortunately, things don't go quite to plan as Carrot becomes immediately smitten with Hinata; her owner following suit soon after.(A romantic comedy AU; where Kageyama, a music producer with a very fat cat, falls for Hinata the veterinarian.)
Relationships: Hinata Shouyou/Kageyama Tobio
Series: Biscuits Verse [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1989358
Comments: 331
Kudos: 1141
Collections: Haikyuu Fics That Light my soul on Fire





	1. Chapter One: 6.5kg

**Author's Note:**

> GOLLY ANOTHER CAT FIC, WHO COULD'VE POSSIBLY SEEN THIS FROM ME?? 
> 
> (emily stop writing about cats challenge: failed.)
> 
> anyway!! this fic was the original idea for 'while it was raining' but i thought it would be too boring. then some friends said it wouldn't be THAT boring so it's been fully outlined and revived!! :D i had a lot of fun writing grumpy drama queen tobio with his enormous fat cat and hinata who basically indulges them but is also steering them onto the right path of healthy eating. 
> 
> special thanks to maeve, roxanne, the annas (tm) and cupcake (doubly so for naming this fic AND being a wonderful beta ;o;) who were relentlessly encouraging. half of these ideas were theirs - i simply put them down on the page <3 <3 THANK U ALL I HOPE U LIKE THE RECTAL THERMOMETER SCENE if and when that shows up, who can say.
> 
> as always, this fic will update on saturdays!! :}

An old woman holding her small terrier-type dog leave a building in the middle of the afternoon on a Tuesday. She rummages in her purse one handed, looking for something, when she is interrupted by her little dog suddenly barking up a storm. Looking up, she blinks in confusion, and has just enough time to spot the young man staggering towards her, a pet carrier in his grasp, and shuffle out of the way before she is almost run over.

“Sorry,” Kageyama pants over his shoulder, as he barrels past and into the reception area of the local veterinary office, his hair a mess and his clothes rumpled. He stumbles over to the desk and aims his next question at the bewildered receptionist. “I have an appointment? Two thirty?”

He has no idea what the current time is, but the clock on the inside of his car had been ticking dangerously close to his appointment time when he’d finally managed to snag a parking space. Though he had left with plenty of time, the traffic had been atrocious. As he stands there, still panting for breath, he hopes that he won’t be turned away if he really is late.

There’s a small, pitiful _mrrraaaaowww_ from the carrier bumping against Kageyama’s calves and he glances down, just about making out the big, sorrowful eyes peering up at him from between the slats in the plastic. With a grunt, he shifts the heavy weight from one hand to the other. Yeah, he’s _really_ hoping he doesn’t have to make this trip twice.

“Don’t worry.” The receptionist smiles at him, and she points with a pen to one of the doors that leads away from the waiting room. “Room 2. The vet said to send you in when you arrive.”

“Oh,” Kageyama dithers and switches his poor cat from hand to hand again. “Thank you.”

As he turns to walk to the indicated door, he has to grasp the carrier handle with both hands to support the weight. It really did swing too much… he didn’t like the thought of his cat sliding around in there… he should get a better carrier.

Both hands occupied, he taps his shoe against the door in a crude version of knocking until there’s a muffled _‘come in!’_ echoing from inside. Using his elbow to lever the handle down, Kageyama shoves his way into the room and stumbles inside, staggering forwards until he can heft his cat carrier up onto the examination table in the middle of the room with a loud grunt.

“Hi!” Comes a chirpy voice from the vague vicinity of the computer in the room and Kageyama looks up through his slightly sweaty fringe to see… someone he’s never seen before.

“Where’s Ukai?” he demands, brows knitting tightly. He always sees Ukai. He _likes_ Ukai; his _cat_ likes Ukai; nothing ever goes _wrong-_

“Threw his back out,” the stranger says, slipping off his stool to walk over to the table. “So you’ve got me instead.”

He’s a young man, about Kageyama’s age he guesses, kind of short and stocky, in pastel green scrubs and with the brightest, most orange hair he’s ever seen on a living thing.

Well, apart from-

“Hey buddy!” The vet is cooing suddenly, bending forward to open the carrier door. Another small, bright orange head pops into view as Kageyama’s beloved cat starts to inch from the carrier, pink nose twitching.

Kageyama opens his mouth to protest his vet of choice being replaced by someone distinctly younger and _not_ as experienced, when his cat starts shuffling out to bump her forehead against the vet’s with a happy little chirp.

Oh. She normally only does that with him…

“We match!” says the vet – Hinata, apparently, according to his nametag – as the ginger cat tumbles out from her carrier to _mraow_ in greeting at the equally ginger vet.

“Hello Carrot,” Hinata says softly, running his hand over her head and across her back.

Carrot raises her rump briefly when he reaches her tail, and then settles back down on the table, a soft purr starting to rumble out.

Kageyama stares. Carrot never purrs at the vet. She’s always perfectly well behaved, but she also continues to stare at him with huge, sad eyes the entire time that plead _‘take me home now.’_ But today she’s acting like she’s in the middle of her living room.

“So,” Hinata says, jolting Kageyama from his thoughts, “Carrot’s just in for her annual check, is that right? How has she been during the last year?”

“Fine…” Kageyama says slowly, still watching with muted awe as Hinata checks her eyes and ears, then opens her mouth, which she opens obligingly for him. She even lets him tickle her under the chin as he reaches for the stethoscope looped around his neck.

A quick listen to her heart, and then the stethoscope is set aside, as Hinata palms his hands down her sides firmly. Carrot wiggles a little bit but doesn’t protest. The vets hums under his breath, presses a button on a set of scales to the side of the examination table, and then lifts her quickly to plonk her on it, taking note of the number.

A small crease appears between those bright orange eyebrows.

“What?” Kageyama demands, when Hinata turns back to his computer with a slight frown. “What is it?”

“Well… when Carrot was about a year old, she was around four kilograms,” Hinata says, as he reaches for a small glass vial already on the workstation side by the computer and rummages around in a drawer. He shoves a needle onto a syringe and removes the cap with his teeth. “That was two years ago, and now she weighs six and a half.”

“So?” Kageyama pouts, placing a protective hand on his cat’s back. She chirrups happily and wiggles beneath his palm, her purrs increasing briefly. “She got bigger.”

“She got _fatter,”_ Hinata corrects, his voice slightly muffled with the needle cap still in his teeth, giving Kageyama a short look.

Kageyama is so taken aback by the sudden flash of stern gold in his eyes that he completely misses Hinata giving his cat her shot. Normally, he has to cuddle her for reassurance.

Carrot doesn’t even blink.

“Good girl, Carrot,” Hinata coos, rubbing an index finger behind her ear. Carrot purrs at him, delighted. “But maybe we should change your name to Pumpkin.”

 _“Hey!”_ Kageyama protests, brain now back in gear and infuriated. “She isn’t _fat!”_

Hinata straightens and dumps his needle in a nearby bin. “She is,” he says firmly, “and she’s going to start getting problems if you don’t get her on a diet.”

Kageyama balls his hands into fists and fumes. Carrot might be a little… _round_ – okay, quite a lot round – but that was okay! She could jump just fine! She might not do it often but she _could._ And she’s happy, always purring and asking for attention and she always looks so _sad_ when her bowl is empty…

Carrot makes a little rumbly noise next to him and rubs her head along his forearm. Kageyama releases a fist with a snap and strokes her absentmindedly, glaring at the vet viciously. The _stupid_ vet, who looks more like an upside down carrot than Carrot herself does.

Hinata meets Kageyama’s glare with his own, albeit a little more professional one. He folds his arms across his chest, mashing the stethoscope around his neck against his scrubs. He actually looks a little intimidating, despite the overall vegetable vibe.

“She really needs to lose some weight,” Hinata repeats, voice like steel. “She’s only young, but being that weight is _not_ healthy – she’ll get early onset arthritis, it’s highly likely that she’ll develop diab-“

He doesn’t get to finish before Kageyama loses his temper. Carrot is _fine._ This new guy was just trying to scare him. Plenty of cats look like Carrot, he sees them on the internet all the time. He turns his back on Hinata, effectively cutting him off, before gathering up the pet carrier and showing the opening to Carrot.

“Come on,” he says softly to his cat, fighting to keep his voice gentle despite his incredibly high blood pressure. “Let’s go home.”

Carrot flicks her ear and then ambles inside, and Kageyama does his best to hide the grunt he makes when his arms are forced to take her heft.

Wordlessly, he thrusts Carrot’s vaccination card at Hinata, who takes it, equally silent, to sign and jot down her vaccination details for that year.

“Think about it,” Hinata says, some of his steel gone but his eyes no less fiery, as he hands back the card. “Call me if you change your mind and want to listen.”

 _Not likely,_ Kageyama thinks to himself viciously. He takes the card and mutters out a thank-you between the grit of his teeth. Securing his hands around the pet carrier’s handle and ensuring Carrot is comfortable inside, he staggers from the room and back into reception.

“When is Ukai back?” He asks the receptionist as he pays, still scowling with anger boiling his blood.

“We’re not sure,” the lady behind the desk responds, looking sad. “He hurt himself pretty badly. We’re not expecting him for another month, at least.”

Kageyama frowns harder, accepting the credit card receipt that is handed to him. He’s only ever had to come here so far for Carrot’s vaccinations and neutering, but… it was comforting to know Ukai was here, should there be an emergency. Now he wasn’t. And there was an orange idiot in his place.

Hopefully there would be no repeat visits for the next twelve months.

* * *

  
  
When Kageyama gets back home, he is still fuming.

He flings open his front door - once he wrestles it open with a heavy carrier still in his grip - kicks his way inside, flings his keys somewhere in the vague direction of the kitchen and gently places Carrot back down onto the ground. She lets out a happy little noise when he opens the door to her carrier, and some part of his fury is smothered slightly when she leaves her plastic prison. He watches her, still frowning, as she immediately waddles over to her food bowl.

Which only makes sense! She missed lunch! Of course she was hungry.

Kageyama kicks the now empty carrier moodily down through the hallway until his anger simmers low enough that he can stomp into the kitchen after his cat without feeling like the vein in his temple might burst. 

Sure, Ukai had, on occasion, mentioned that Carrot was a little overweight, but nothing _bad_ , he doesn't think. The new vet was just wrong, that's all.

Kageyama flicks on his kettle, rummages around in the cupboards and fridge, and slams his way around the kitchen while he makes a cup of milky tea with Carrot's biscuit crunching echoing in the background. He's probably being a little too loud, but all Carrot does is flick her ear and ignore him, so he makes no effort to temper himself.

By the time he's wrapped his hands around his mug, comfortingly warm, most of his anger has burnt away. Taking long, slow sips of his tea (probably more milk than he should have added... he's been trying to cut back) he looks down and over at Carrot, who has seemingly finished her lunch, sitting back on her haunches and swiping her tongue across her lips.

He watches her wash herself - across her face and behind her ears - and then his eyes drift down to her... _substantial_ tummy. It _is_ a little round, he supposes, tilting his head as he takes another sip from his mug. Her fur does cover almost all of her back paws where her belly sits and she is definitely a lot more spherical than she was when he first took her home - a small orange scrap of a thing, quiet and nervous. 

Kageyama glares down into his milky tea. He hates the thought of being wrong, that the stupid, new vet was actually _right_ , but... he squints harder into his tea. Being a little bit overweight couldn't be that bad, surely? She was fine. The vet had even said so. But then, he was going to mention all those other things... 

Kageyama huffs, drains the rest of his drink, sloppily rinses out the mug and dunks it on the draining board before sulking off to his office. The day is officially free, booked off specially to take Carrot in for her check-up with plenty of time - just in case there was anything wrong. But now that that was over and she was fine, there really wasn't much else to do. He never was the best at just kicking back and relaxing.

Carrot trots after him, her tail held high in a little loop above her back as she wobbles in his wake. As Kageyama eases himself into his desk chair, she crawls into a nearby cat bed, large and soft and round, and flops onto her side. Kageyama glances down at her with a smile as she settles, reaching out blindly to start his computer back up. It buzzes and hums, the screen flickering on, but he ignores it as it boots up. He plonks his elbow on his desk and his chin on his hand and watches Carrot drift off to sleep.

It _had_ been a while since he had seen her truly curl up into a little ball... normally she just flopped over sideways, burying her nose into whatever comfy spot she had found.

The computer sings its welcoming tune as it finishes booting and Kageyama drags his attention back towards it, opening up his e-mails on autopilot, his mind elsewhere.

He stares at the first one on the list for a solid ten minutes, re-reading the opening line over and over, his head full of distractions before he sighs sharply and rummages around in his pocket for his phone. Stabbing at the screen until he finds the veterinary practice’s number, he dials and then presses his phone to his ear, drumming his fingers against his desk.

“Good afternoon, Karasuno Veterinary Surgery, how may I help-“

“Yeah, hi, is the orange vet there?” Kageyama interrupts as soon as the line connects. He taps his fingers against his mouse idly. “Please,” he adds, in afterthought, regretting his impatience a little. The receptionists really were very nice.

“Orange…?” The woman on the other end the line repeats, and there’s a short pause before she tentatively asks, “Do you mean Hinata?”

“Probably,” Kageyama grunts, shrugging a shoulder even though he couldn’t be seen. He couldn’t remember the vet’s name, but that sounded vaguely familiar.

“I can see if he’s free. Who’s calling?”

Kageyama relays his information and taps his fingers a little harder against his mouse when the receptionist murmurs “just a moment,” and then the hold music starts playing over the line. It chimes for long enough that he starts to get antsy, swivelling in his seat and kicking his feet idly, leaning his head over the back of his chair.

“Hello, Hinata speaking.”

The sound of a young man’s voice in his ear is so abrupt that Kageyama almost gives himself a neck sprain from sitting up straight again so fast.

“What were those things you were listing?” He demands, once he’s upright and paying attention. “Those things that can happen to fat cats. Even though my cat is _not_ fat.”

Not _that_ fat, anyway…

There’s a slight pause on the other end of the line, so Kageyama adds, just to be clear, “It’s Kageyama Tobio. With Carrot.”

“I remember,” Hinata says easily, and there’s a lilt to his voice that suggests amusement. It makes Kageyama’s brow twitch.

There’s a rustle over the phone, and then a small whoosh of air, like the vet is sighing. “Alright. So one of the biggest concerns is diabetes, which cats can also get just like humans. Then there would be joint problems, increased risk of arthritis, which affects her mobility. And, of course, issues such as blood pressure, which would…”

Kageyama starts to tune him out, his mind whirling with all of these things. It’s not like he didn’t know they existed, it’s just… it never occurred to him they could be things that cats could get too. Looking back over Carrot, still snoring in her bed, as Hinata continues to babble in his ears, he feels his heart twinge. He doesn’t know what he would do if she became unwell.

“I don’t want her to get ill,” he pipes up suddenly, voicing the thought unwittingly just as it pops into his brain.

There’s quiet on the other end of the line, and then Hinata is saying, “Well, why don’t you bring her back, and I’ll help you get her on a diet.”

“Can’t I do that at home?” Kageyama protests, frowning. It’s not that he can’t go back – his job is flexible enough to allow him the time; it’s not like he ever takes all his annual leave anyway. But surely he could just… cut back her food a bit. Just a little bit.

“You _could,”_ Hinata says, “but it’s easier with a special diet food. I wouldn’t be charging you, I just want to get her measurements and form the right plan, so it’s easier if she’s here.”

Kageyama hums in thought, gnawing on his cheek as he watches Carrot attempt to roll over in her sleep and then give up. His heart twinges a little harder. “Alright,” he agrees, reluctantly.

He’s half expecting to be passed back over to the receptionist, but surprisingly Hinata stays on the line, booking him in himself.

“I’ll see you and Carrot then, Kageyama,” he says, all perky and professional, and then the line clicks dead.

Kageyama tosses his phone idly back down onto his desk with a little huff, feeling torn. He wants to do his best by Carrot, obviously, but also… this feels like losing, like he’s admitting the vet was right all along.

He allows himself a few more minutes more of brooding silently before actively shaking himself and focusing back on his e-mails. Working from home was always a little harder when he couldn’t be at the studio, but it’s not as though he couldn’t get _anything_ done.

In the corner, Carrot stretches out her stumpy legs and continues to snore.

* * *

In the days that follow and leading up to his second appointment at the vet, Kageyama tries to go about business as usual. He gets up; he feeds Carrot; he goes to work; he comes home and feeds Carrot some more, then he sits in the living room and idly strums the strings on his guitar and hums melodies. Occasionally he writes them down, if he likes them enough.

His job is… okay, all things considered. He gets to go to a studio and be alone, unbothered by anybody unless it was through a scheduled phone call, and make music. It’s not really the music he _wants_ to create – but the stuff that sold. And that’s fine. It’s almost easy for him really, to sit in front of a soundboard and a computer with some instruments to hand and come up with a song. Spin the tune together and then sell it off to whoever was willing to buy it.

There are a few pop songs in the charts written by Kageyama Tobio, though nobody would ever know about it.

Which suits Kageyama just fine, honestly. It makes him enough money that he can afford to kick back and write his own music at his leisure. Which is not to be sold, or sung by someone else, or heard by anybody outside of his flat. His only audience would only ever be Carrot.

Kageyama hums a tune that has been rattling around in his head for a couple of days as he bends down and fills up Carrot’s food bowl. Tomorrow they will head back to the veterinary office to see the vet again and discuss her diet. Today, he thinks he might try and write this tune down, to see if he can get it to work for him…

As Carrot’s bowl fills, he tilts his head in thought, the humming trailing off into silence, as he considers the small mound of biscuits. There isn’t really much time to think too deeply, however, before Carrot is waddling over and sticking her head into the pile. Her tail sweeps over the floor behind her in quiet contentment and Kageyama snorts, running his fingers over her back briefly.

Hopefully she won’t mind whatever fancy diet the vet has in mind… she isn’t the fussiest of cats, but she does like her biscuits…

Which is handy, because it made Kageyama feel a little better – knowing that he can leave her a big bowl of food that won’t go off while he was at work all day.

And, considering it’s the last day before she gets her new food… Kageyama clucks his tongue, before nudging Carrot to the side gently. She makes a muffled, displeased noise, her claws skittering over the floor tiles as she’s slid away from her bowl. But then her eyes go big and shiny as Kageyama tips more biscuits in front of her.

Might as well let her have a little bit more, as a treat.

The sounds of Carrot’s contented purring follow him as he leaves the flat, and Kageyama’s stomach flips just a little in guilt. Hopefully she won’t be _too_ mad at him.

The next morning, when Kageyama lets Carrot finish her first round of breakfast before bringing out her carrier again, he quietly crosses his fingers behind his back and hopes she won’t try waddling away. He really doesn’t like grabbing her. But Carrot just blinks at the big plastic box, flicks the end of her tail, and then shuffles inside.

“Oh,” Kageyama murmurs, surprised. “Good girl.” He swings the door shut and stands, grunting as he lifts. He’s already starting to regret agreeing to go back to the practice – even regular weight lifting wasn’t enough to prepare him for this.

Carrot squints him a little as they make the journey from the flat to the car, her carrier smashing against several walls, each collision followed by Kageyama swearing and then apologising profusely. While his flat is fairly spacious, the stairways certainly aren’t, and he finds himself cursing once again that he didn’t pick a building with a lift as he staggers down the stairs to the parking lot.

He can feel sweat starting to dribble down his neck by the time he actually makes it back into the veterinary practice waiting room, the drive down from his building not enough to cool him down sufficiently, even with air conditioning and the windows down.

The receptionist smiles at him when he enters and invites him to head on through into the same room as last time before he can manage to pant out his name.

Relieved, Kageyama staggers across the waiting area, stumbles around a curious labrador and all but falls into the room. The vet isn’t there when he arrives, which gives him some reprieve to stand there and catch his breath. The bag of food he was asked to bring with him almost slips from his slick palm, and he grips it tighter, blowing air at his damp fringe. At least the room was air conditioned.

Then the room’s second door cracks open and the vet steps inside. Kageyama straightens, composing himself, and also squints at the nametag on the vet’s scrub top for good measure, just to remind himself of his name – Hinata, that’s right.

“Okay!” Hinata says, all bright and cheerful. “Hello again. Let’s have a look at Carrot and get started. Did you bring her normal food?”

“Obviously?” Kageyama replies, with a sardonic raise to his brow. He’s only holding two things after all – Carrot’s carrier and the bag of pet food; it was pretty obvious.

Hinata doesn’t seem to be particularly bothered however. He gestures for Kageyama to place Carrot on the examination table and starts rummaging around in the drawers by his computer.

Kageyama hefts Carrot up with a grunt, dumping the bag of food beside her and releasing the latches on her carrier door. She starts nosing out immediately, spotting her food bag and becoming entranced. Rubbing her head against the plastic, she lets out little excited chirrups, her tail shaking behind her.

“Not right now,” Kageyama murmurs to her apologetically, running a hand down her back.

“Hello Carrot!” Hinata greets as he steps up close, some bits of paper in his hands, along with what looks like a roll of measuring tape.

Kageyama, fully expecting her to ignore him, especially since she had been poked with a needle on her last visit (and called fat) gawks a little when she gives him her immediate, full attention. She twists under Kageyama’s palm, even abandoning her bag of food to gaze up at Hinata with wide, happy eyes, a rumbling purr starting to blossom in her throat.

“Who’s a happy girl?” Hinata coos, dropping the items in his arms onto the table and tickling her under the chin.

Carrot’s purrs increase, her eyes sliding shut with bliss.

Kageyama is dumbfounded. He has no idea how Hinata is managing this. Carrot normally hates strangers. It had taken her _weeks_ to get used to him, and he was her favourite person in the world. And here Hinata was, getting head butts and happy purrs out of her within minutes.

“Alright then, stand up for me sweetheart,” Hinata encourages, using his hands to palm up her sides until she stands obediently. Then, swiftly, he grabs his measuring tape, wrapping it around several points along her body, muttering to himself as he goes. Kageyama watches with a little frown as Hinata writes down his findings in a little booklet, which he then passes over to him.

“What’s this?” Kageyama grunts, flipping the little paper booklet around in his fingers. It has an overly cheerful picture of a woman with a cat and a dog on the front, and what looks like a grid inside. The first row has already been filled in by Hinata – a selection of numbers he does not understand.

“Progress chart!” Hinata chirps, walking back over to his computer. “Her weight and measurements. We’ll take them every visit, and make sure they’re going down. Now, what food are you currently feeding her?”

Kageyama looks up from squinting at the weight loss progress booklet in his hands and grabs at the pet food bag on the table, thrusting it at Hinata vaguely. Carrot follows his every movement with wide, hopeful eyes.

Hinata mumbles out a thanks, taking the bag and flipping it around, apparently checking the nutrition chart on the back.

He can’t help it – Kageyama bristles immediately. “It’s good food,” he protests, feeling the need to justify himself. And it _is_ good food. It is expensive and fancy and the shop assistant at the pet store had assured him it was the best quality and Kageyama had double checked this with reviews online. He would _never_ feed Carrot bad food.

“It is!” Hinata agrees, unexpectedly. “So I think where you’ve been tripping up is just feeding her too much. It’s not really your fault – they don’t make it clear how much to feed most of the time so people go over. You don’t need that much at all with dry food like this, and a lot of people go by how the full the bowl looks and don’t weigh it out.”

“Weigh it… out…” Kageyama says slowly, his brow knitting. He was supposed to weigh it? Like he was cooking?

“Yep!” Hinata confirms, pointing at the chart on the back. “It does say how much, but these charts are always so vague… but anyway! How much are you feeding her, would you say?”

“I… fill up the bowl?”

“Okay… how big is the bowl?”

Kageyama’s frown deepens at these nonsensical questions. Wordlessly, he mimes roughly how big the food bowl is, and then mimes a little mound that goes on top. Carrot’s food did normally make a little mountain peak. She likes it that way – when she can stuff her whole face into the biscuits. It makes her purr very loudly.

Hinata stares at him silently for a moment. “And… how many of these bags do you go through a month?”

“Four?” Kageyama shrugs. “About one a week.”

“One _a week-“_ Hinata repeats, and then cuts himself off. Seems to visibly collect himself before starting again. “Well,” he says, mostly to Carrot, who is still staring at the bag of food in Hinata’s hands in hopeful rapture. “No wonder you’re fat sweetheart.”

“She isn’t _fat!”_ Kageyama protests again, feeling deeply insulted on behalf of his beloved cat and himself. He may be overfeeding just a little, okay, and she is a little too round, but the stupid vet is acting like he’s doing this on purpose!

“She _is,”_ Hinata says, in that stern voice again. He hands Kageyama back the bag of food, taps at his computer for a moment, before striding back over the examination table. Running one hand over Carrot’s head idly – who raises up on her feet to get more attention – he grabs one of the bits of paper he had left there and turns to show it to Kageyama.

It’s a chart of some kind, featuring several drawings of cats from skinny all the way up to how… Carrot… kind of looked.

“This is a body condition chart,” Hinata says, still stroking Carrot. “Now she should be somewhere in the middle – still with a waist, but not too skinny. You don’t want to be able to see her ribs, but you _do_ want to be able to feel them. But she hasn’t got a waist, and it’s very hard to find her ribs. On the scale, she’s all the way over on the far end. Can you see?”

He then turns to Carrot herself and twists the chart around to show her. “Can you see Pumpkin?” Hinata asks, his voice going all soft and silly, “Where are you?” Carrot seems to huddle down on the table, almost as though she was embarrassed, her little pink nose twitching as she regards the chart in Hinata’s hands.

Unamused, Kageyama snatches the chart away from Hinata to squint at it himself. And, indeed, the drawing of the cat under the number 9 that was labelled ‘obese’ does in fact, resemble Carrot a little too closely. Some of the anger simmering in his chest burns away a little the longer he stares at it, something resembling shame quickly taking its place.

“Hey, don’t worry.”

Kageyama’s gaze flicks up from the chart back to the vet, who is looking back at him with a much softer expression.

“As I said, it’s not really your fault. You didn’t know. Now, you could just drop her food down to what she should be eating and see how that goes, but in my experience that’s kind of hard in the long term. It’s like crash dieting, but for cats.”

Kageyama nods along vaguely, flicking the chart between his fingers. “She’ll lose it quickly and then put it all back on?” He guesses. If that’s the same as for people it is.

Hinata beams widely. “Bingo! So we want her to lose weight slowly. It’s normally easier with diet food. The fibre content is really high, so it takes longer to digest. You can get away with feeding less and she’ll still feel full. That way she loses weight nice and slowly and once she’s back down to a healthy weight she can go back onto her old food. _Slowly.”_

“I see…” Kageyama looks back down at the chart and then back over at Carrot, who is quietly nuzzling Hinata’s elbow for more attention. He looks at her round, chubby body, and thinks about all the things Hinata had listed over the phone. Then he sighs, deeply, and nods. It’s fine. It’s just a diet, they can do this. Carrot will still love him even if she doesn’t get all the food she wants, he’s sure.

He’s… pretty sure, at least.

Hinata smiles even wider, if that’s possible. Then he’s bustling about, darting out of the room and coming back in with a bag of food from a brand Kageyama does not recognise. He shoves that into Kageyama’s arms, then grabs the weight loss booklet and starts scribbling feeding instructions in there. When he’s done he shoves that into Kageyama’s arms as well, babbling all the while.

“Okay, I’ve worked out how much she needs to be fed and you can split it into two meals or just feed her once a day, whichever you both find easier. I want you to try her on this diet for two weeks and then come back and see me and I’ll re-weigh her and take her measurements. Then in about a month or so I’ll have a look at the plan, see if I need to change anything-“

Kageyama only just about follows this incessant stream of chattering, nodding along vaguely. He’s mostly just preoccupied with how he’s supposed to carry Carrot in her carrier plus two bags food _and_ his little booklet thing home with only two arms. He doesn’t live very far away – just a short drive – but right now it feels like a trek.

He’s going to lose weight before Carrot does, at this rate.

He exchanges a look with his cat, who tilts her head at him curiously, while Hinata taps away at his computer and gets him booked in for two weeks’ time. “Sorry,” Kageyama says to Carrot, earnestly, shrugging his shoulders hopelessly.

Looks like they’re in it properly now.

* * *

Kageyama looks at the bowl of pet food on his kitchen weighing scales, then back at the little weight progress booklet. Then back at the scales.

“That can’t be right,” he mumbles to himself, squinting at the vet’s handwriting. It is, infuriatingly, not even that messy, so it’s not like he was mistaken in reading it. But it _can’t_ be right – the amount of food in Carrot’s bowl was far too small. The vet said it would be a smaller amount but this was just ridiculous.

_Mrrraaaaooowwww._

Carrot wails by his feet, butting her head insistently against his shins. She’s hungry, and wants breakfast _now._

“Just a minute, Pumpkin,” Kageyama mutters at her, distracted.

Then glares into space once he realises that’s what the vet had called her.

(Whatever his name is. He’s forgotten again.)

“Okay, no, this definitely isn’t right,” Kageyama decides, and he moves to locate his phone, almost tripping over Carrot in the process. Insistent, unhappy meows follow him as he finally unearths it in the office, and immediately starts dialling the vets.

This time, he allows the perky receptionist to finish her welcoming spiel before, once again, asking for the orange vet.

“Of course. Kageyama right?” The woman says, a smile in her voice.

Great. Now he’s going to be known for this, Kageyama thinks to himself savagely. And it wasn’t even his fault! The vet kept being annoying!

“Kageyama,” the vet’s voice echoes over the line after a moment, sounding almost exasperated. Kageyama has no idea why.

“Yeah, hi – what’s your name again? – This is too little food. I think you got that calculation wrong.”

“Hinata,” comes the reply, now sounding amused. “And no, I didn’t. You really were feeding her way too much. The calculation came to a little less than what I told you to feed her, actually, but I was being nice. It’s hard going straight to a low amount after all.”

Kageyama grits his teeth and stomps from his office, nearly trips over Carrot again, and heads back into the kitchen. He picks up the bowl of food from the scales when he reaches it and shakes it, watching the biscuits skitter around the bottom. He can still see the porcelain underneath!

“She’ll _starve,”_ he protests. “This can’t possibly last her all day.”

Carrot plants her two front feet on his leg and does her best to climb up, wailing loudly.

“Is that her?” Hinata laughs over the line. “Hello Pumpkin!” he calls, even though she couldn’t possibly hear him.

Kageyama’s stomach twists up horribly for some unfathomable reason.

“Anyway,” Hinata continues, “she won’t _starve_. That’s plenty fine until you get home from work later and can give her some more. Just the other half of what I told you! There’s enough there; she’s just being greedy.”

Kageyama nearly drops the food bowl in indignant fury.

“She’s not _greedy!”_ He protests, insulted. “She just…” he flicks his gaze over to Carrot, who is looking up at him with big, sorrowful eyes. “… likes her food,” he finishes, a little lamely.

“Mmhm,” Hinata hums.

Kageyama gets the feeling he is being indulged. “I’m hanging up now,” he announces. Hinata probably does have other things to be doing, after all. “And the diet sucks.”

He thinks he hears a distant burst of laughter before he cuts the call with a jab of his thumb, stuffing his phone into his pocket angrily.

Glaring down at the bowl of food in his hands, Kageyama contemplates. Technically, he doesn’t _have_ to offer Carrot this. Hinata _did_ say he could just cut down her regular food; it would just be harder. And well, it would still be more food than this.

Decided, he tosses the diet food back into its bag and takes out Carrot’s regular food, filling up the bowl properly. He makes sure not to make a little mound like he normally does, skimming the biscuits off the top so they lay in parallel with the rim of the bowl. There. That had to be at least half of what he normally gave her.

Satisfied, he bends down to place the bowl on her feeding mat, smiling softly when Carrot chirrups happily, immediately waddling over to stuff her face into her breakfast.

“Good girl,” he coos, running his fingers over the soft fur on her back before straightening, and going about the rest of his morning routine.

* * *

Halfway through his working day, Kageyama stares at his soundboard, and then his computer, and then at the sheets of paper he has littered over his work surface, and sighs. This song is nearly there, but it’s just not quite _right._ Stuffing his hands into his hair, he ruffles the strands irritably. Pop songs could be like this sometimes. Usually they came to him easily – they were a fairly simple formula, but sometimes he just gets a little stuck.

It was always harder writing to sell rather than writing for himself, after all.

Stabbing at a button on his soundboard, he lets the melody play through one more time before he growls, shutting it off and throwing his headphones off for good measure.

Now that he’s exposed to the rest of the world’s outside noises, he becomes just a little more aware of his own stomach, rumbling at him insistently. Surprised, he swivels in his seat to glance at the clock, eyebrows ticking at the time. Great, he’s been here for hours already and he’s still no further forward. Huffing in annoyance, he throws himself to his feet, slamming his way out of his work station.

It’s probably best to go out, get some fresh air, grab a coffee and some lunch, and then hopefully when he gets back he can finally get this melody finalised.

Halfway down the street on his return from his preferred coffee shop – a small, independent place that had good pastries and didn’t judge him for wanting copious amounts of milk in his coffee – he spots an advert.

Kageyama stops walking, coffee in a to-go-cup halfway to his mouth, and stares at the poster on the bus station, happily advertising some kind of new slimming pill.

Great. Diets. They were following him everywhere.

Scowling, he sips viciously from his coffee cup, stuffs his sandwich into his mouth for a bite, and stomps the rest of the way back to his work building.

He’s still fuming about it when he falls back into his seat, inhaling the rest of his sandwich and draining his coffee cup. Crunching both the cup and the food wrapper between his palms, he flings them into the rubbish bin in the corner, only the smallest bit satisfied when his aim lands true. Sighing, he taps his fingers against his chair’s armrests, and tries his hardest to get the image of diets out of his mind and focus on the song that’s eluding him.

He gives up after five minutes.

Frustrated beyond belief, he swivels back to his computer and brings up Google, stabbing _‘cat diabetes’_ into the search bar.

It’s not that he’s… changing his mind, he tells himself, as he scrolls through the results. He’ll still get Carrot to lose some weight, he just... wants to reassure himself it’s not _that_ bad. That the vet was just scaring him. He can just cut down Carrot’s food and see how they go. No problem.

He clicks on a link and then immediately regrets all of his choices.

After spending the rest of the afternoon fighting the urge to fling himself from his chair and run home to change Carrot’s food immediately, _and_ bringing up a new song file to start writing something suitably angsty and full of despair, Kageyama feels a splitting headache start to rage in his skull by the time the clock strikes six. He gives his – now two songs – one last listen each, marks them as almost complete and to be looked at again tomorrow, switches off his machinery and stumbles to his feet.

Carrot looks her usual self when he throws himself through his front door, chirpy and happy to see him, winding her way between his legs and shooting hopeful glances and her once again empty bowl.

“I’m so sorry,” Kageyama blurts, getting to his knees and running his hands over her little head. Carrot blinks at him, nonplussed. “I’ll get you on the diet, I promise you won’t have to have two needles every day okay? I promise. No diabetes for you.”

He hopes he can keep this promise. Two needles a day is enough to make him want to faint, yet alone poor Carrot.

Carrot purrs at him, blinking slowly.

Kageyama’s heart cracks and he gives his sweet cat a little kiss on her head before climbing to his feet and finally shedding his outerwear. Carrot waits for him patiently in the kitchen, dancing a little on her feet.

Her tail flicks up in a hopeful arc when Kageyama reaches – still somewhat reluctantly – for the bag of diet food on the counter. Grabbing her bowl, he weighs the food, puts it in, and then deposits it on her mat with a flourish, trying to pretend everything is normal.

Carrot sniffs at her bowl. Sticks her paw inside and skitters the biscuits around. Sits down on her haunches and looks up at him with big eyes. Then she opens her little mouth and meows, plaintively.

Kageyama wonders if it’s possible for a heart to break twice within ten minutes.

“It’s okay, it’s just different,” he soothes, scratching her behind her ears. “Just try it.”

Carrot wiggles a little under his touch but then turns her attention back to her bowl, sniffing the biscuits inside again.

Hoping her hunger will outdo her fussiness, Kageyama grabs a glass of milk from the fridge – he deserves one after today – and shuffles off to the living room. He just needs a bit of a sit down with his guitar to unwind before he can start to think about preparing any dinner.

He’s only just sat down on the sofa and pulled his guitar onto his lap when a… _noise_ starts echoing down the hall.

“What in the-“ Kageyama mutters, sitting still and craning an ear.

It sounds like rumbling. Muffled, angry noises that are disrupted by the occasional crunch.

Baffled, Kageyama sets his guitar on the cushions next to him and gets to his feet, following the mysterious noise down the hallway until he reaches the kitchen.

And there he finds Carrot, making an alarming sound.

She’s eating – taking her time crunching each individual biscuit with a miserable, scrunched up look on her face, ears flat to her skull. And between every bite she emits some sort of horrible, deep gurgling sound. Not quite purring, but… angrier.

“What the hell is this food?” Kageyama hisses to the universe at large, instantly rummaging around in his pocket for his phone and, once more, ringing the vets.

He really should just put them on speed dial at this point.

After the brief, usual exchange with the receptionist, Hinata’s voice sounds over the line, this time a little faster than normal. Perhaps it was the panic in Kageyama’s voice that had summoned him quicker.

“Hinata,” Kageyama bites out, distantly impressed with himself that he managed to remember his name this time, “you’ve poisoned my cat.”

“I’ve-“

But Hinata doesn’t get to finish before Kageyama is bending down and waving his phone by Carrot so that her strange noises can be heard over the phone.

“Hear that?” He asks, pressing his phone by his ear again. “She’s-“

“-Growling,” Hinata finishes, a strange quality to his voice. It sounds an awful lot like he’s trying not to laugh. “Wow, I haven’t ever heard a cat growl at home like that before.”

“She’s… growling?” Kageyama repeats, in disbelief. “She hates it!”

“Apparently,” Hinata replies, still sounding far too amused for what the situation warrants. “Try adding in a couple biscuits of her old food – just a _couple!_ Sometimes they need a bit of mixing before they get used to it.”

“She _hates_ it,” Kageyama says again, even when he dutifully stands to fetch the food in question.

“She’s eating it,” Hinata points out. “She doesn’t hate it that much. She’s just… protesting. Couple of days, she’ll get used to it.”

Kageyama scowls so hard his forehead hurts as he crouches beside Carrot again, her growls still echoing around her bowl while she chews, tail thumping against the floor. He sprinkles the tiny handful of her old biscuits into her meal and watches, hopeful, as slowly her grumbles diminish, until eventually she’s just crunching.

“There you go,” Hinata says, once again sounding like he was indulging Kageyama. “Just do that for the next couple of meals until it’s just the diet stuff, she’ll get used to it.”

The vet clicks off the line before Kageyama can reply beyond a grunt, and it’s only when Kageyama pockets his phone it occurs to him that Hinata really did… give him a fair amount of time, considering. Maybe he wasn’t all _that_ bad.

Even so, Kageyama still kind of feels like he’s losing when, not three days later, Carrot is munching her way through her new breakfast without any complaints at all.

(She did still look at him with big, hopeful eyes when she finished, but… she always did that. So Kageyama tries to fight down the feeling that he was letting her down, and resists the urge to call Hinata.)

* * *

Two weeks after his last visit to vets, Kageyama once more finds himself hefting Carrot’s carrier up onto the examination table. He’s been here more in the last month than he has in a year, this is kind of ridiculous. This weigh-in had better be worth it.

“Alright!” Hinata exclaims, wearing deep blue scrubs today instead of his usual green. Kageyama kind of misses the other ones. They reminded him of Carrot. “Let’s see how we did!”

He switches on the scales and opens Carrot’s door, encouraging her to emerge. She does so happily, excitedly bashing her head against Hinata’s forehead, who coos happily.

“Hello Pumpkin,” he says warmly. “Have you been good?” With a grunt (that Kageyama privately thinks is entirely unnecessary) he lifts her up and places her gently on the weighing scales.

Kageyama squints at the reading. What was she before again..?

“200 grams!” Hinata cheers, apparently thrilled. “Good girl Carrot!”

Carrot purrs at the praise, oblivious.

“Wait… 200 grams?” Kageyama repeats, his eyebrows knotting. “Is that it?”

“Yep,” Hinata chirps, waving at the booklet Kageyama was holding until it was handed over to him. “That’s a good start!”

“Is it?” Kageyama argues, disbelieving. “I thought you wanted her to lose two kilos? This is nothing! I knew that diet was-“

“Working,” Hinata interrupts, back in his stern voice. He’s not looking at Kageyama though, instead bending over to write numbers down in the booklet. His tape measure sits beside him. When he had managed to measure Carrot as well, Kageyama does not know. “The weight loss is supposed to be slow, remember?”

“How slow?” Kageyama grumps, mostly to just be contrary. He’s glad she’s lost weight, he supposes, but he also hates her sad face when she looks at her pitiful rations and her plaintive meows in the evenings as she asks for more. He knows he can never go back to feeding her what he had before, but… even just having her on a smaller amount of her old food would be better than the tiny diet portions.

“As slow as it takes,” Hinata replies. “Ideally, we like them to lose between two and point five percent of their bodyweight a week. More than that is like crash dieting and less is hardly any progress. It’s best to do this healthily! That way, she’s more likely to keep the weight off in the long term. I know it’s hard, but several months of dieting is worth it for several more years with her, don’t you think?”

Kageyama falls silent, suitably chastened. He watches as Hinata finishes writing in the booklet and pockets his pen, turning his attention to Carrot instead. She has bumbled her way off of the weighing scales and is now sitting comfortably on the table in front of him, rubbing her face happily over his forehead where it was still bent near to her level.

“Thank you,” Hinata says earnestly.

Kageyama reaches out silently and takes the booklet from where it was sitting on the table, fiddling with the pages. He had thought, privately in the back of his mind, that he would put up with this until he had a handle on Carrot’s diet. Once he knew what he was doing, he would ask to see Ukai again – Ukai’s bad back permitting – and go back to the familiar.

Hinata was only temporary.

But as he stands there and watches his beloved cat start to groom the orange hairs sitting over Hinata’s forehead, swiping her tongue over them repeatedly as he giggles, he feels that resolve start to waver.

He doesn’t like the dieting, but Carrot does seem to be absolutely smitten with Hinata. And that’s… that’s something, he supposes.

And he really would do just about anything to keep Carrot happy.


	2. Chapter Two: 5.25kg

Kageyama flicks his pen between his fingers, tapping the ends of it intermittently against his work station.

The final touches to this pop song just _keep_ eluding him.

He could, technically, just ship it off as it is. It would probably sell. But Kageyama never sends anything off unless he is one hundred percent satisfied, even if he is just a pseudonym on the album credits in the end. It’s a point of pride, whether it’s music to sell or music for himself.

Puffing out a sigh, he flicks a switch on his soundboard and lets the bouncy melody wash over him again, trying to pay attention to the beats and the flow. The composition works well enough, but it’s just not… standing out. It loops over twice more before he flicks the switch back, running a hand through his hair irritably and swivelling in his seat to look at his computer screen instead.

He already finished and sent out a different song in the last week – one slow and melancholy – just to keep his business contacts happy and his bills comfortably paid. But it wasn’t a big seller, a niche song really, and this pop song _should_ sell much better. So he squints at his screen, and clucks his tongue in thought.

He could work on the lyrics instead. He’s not the best lyricist – he struggles with words in song just as much as words in speech, but he makes do. His personal work remains wordless, just the musical notes he wants to hear, that express the noise in his head without any vocal cords. But pop songs need lyrics, so lyrics he has to consider.

Often, he gets by with just a basic idea. A sketch of what the song was roughly about that went with the melody he had written. Things often got altered when the song got sold anyway. He doesn’t care. He’s not here to write poetry.

But perhaps some lyrics would help, just until he wasn’t so _stuck._

Kageyama glances around his station, grasping for some fit of inspiration of what to write about. The music comes easily to him – he knows what’s popular, what sells, and how to write it in a way that he is satisfied with, but he never really knows what to get people to sing. Love is normally the go-to, or some sort of vague inspirational tune, but Kageyama is feeling frustrated and neither of those things come easily to him in times like this.

He’s just glancing over at an old newspaper he’d left lying in the corner a couple of days ago thoughtfully – there might be some ideas in the gossip columns – when his eyes slip over to the framed photo just beside it.

It’s the only one in his work station. The frame is simple, just a cheap one for standard sized photos that he’d picked up without thinking too much while shopping one day. But the photo inside is important – a snapshot of Carrot from earlier that year, snoozing on his guitar.

Kageyama sometimes wonders if it was considered odd, to have a photo of one’s cat at work instead of a partner, or a family member. But he likes it, the constant reminder of who waits for him at home. And the photo itself is one of the few things that brings a smile to his face without any effort at all.

It’s a sweet shot, a little blurry in his rush to capture it on his phone. Carrot takes up most of the frame, half of her body curled up across the back of Kageyama’s guitar where it lay face down across the sofa and her back legs sprawled along the cushions. It shouldn’t be comfy, sleeping half on wood, but she looked absolutely content.

She also looks extremely round.

He had never really noticed before – not properly, at least – but the way her stomach rises in a sharp curve and then falls again to her stumpy little back legs… Kageyama feels his mouth purse out in a pout. Now that she has, in fact, lost _some_ weight, he can really see the difference in her physique from before and now, even barely two months in.

Hinata may have had something of a point, perhaps.

(But only _just._ There were definitely cats fatter than Carrot around. He knows; he’s seen them on the internet while trying to comfort himself that he wasn’t the worst cat owner on the planet.)

Rising his pen to his mouth, he gnaws on the end of it thoughtfully. The song he’s written is cheery, a cutesy, bopping beat that will probably be popular with high school girls. It’s one that doesn’t have to be about love, or the universe in general, and it would probably fit better with something sweet and sugary.

Like a very cute, ginger cat.

So Kageyama grabs a spare sheet of paper, pops his pen out from his mouth and writes down the title of his brainstorming.

_Fat Cat Song._

Nodding in satisfaction, he starts humming the melody under his breath, getting a feel for how it sounds in his mouth and moves with the air in his chest. Then he flicks the switch on his soundboard again, letting it play out loud for real.

 _“Fat cat song…”_ he starts to sing, with a flat tone at first, until the tune starts to find him.

_“This is the fat cat song…”_

Perhaps this is how people come to terms with things they were in denial about, he muses as he scribbles down his silly lyrics on the paper. Make songs about them.

_“She’s big and soft and sweet…”_

Kageyama pauses and taps his foot along to the beat as he thinks.

_“She’s the roundest carrot you’ll ever meet… this is the fat cat song…”_

It’s becoming more a children’s rhyme than a pop song, but at least it’s loosening the muscles in his shoulders.

_“She’s large and cute and always hungry…”_

More foot tapping.

_“She’s the best cat in all the country… this is the fat cat song…”_

More scribbling. Another sheet of paper.

_“She’s such a good pet, but she went to the vet, and he told her she was round… so now she’s diet bound…”_

The melody starts to fade.

_“This the fat cat song… the fat cat song… but she won’t be fat for long.”_

The music ends and Kageyama finishes scrawling, looking down at his mess of lyrics with some embarrassment and also a small amount of pride. They were _very_ stupid, but they did fit the beat at least. A cute little ditty – albeit with lyrics not quite this childish – he can work with this. A bit of tweaking, and it should shape up.

Fired up and rejuvenated, Kageyama presses more buttons and adjusts the sliders. The song starts up, with different instruments fading in and out of focus as it goes and he turns back to his computer, humming the tune under his breath as he loads up the right software.

_“Fat cat song… fat cat song… she’s big and soft and sweet…”_

His voice trails off, quiet and whispery, as he works, and he sends Carrot’s photo a small, grateful smile.

* * *

“How long have you been a vet anyway?”

Hinata blinks up at the question during their next appointment, halfway through measuring Carrot’s neck. He raises one hand to steady her, as she strains to try and get some sort of petting going.

Kageyama strokes her back to appease her, lips twitching when her rump bounces at the touch.

“Just over three years,” Hinata replies eventually, unlooping his measuring tape and jotting down the number.

Kageyama hums vaguely. That would put Hinata at the same age as him then, like he’d suspected. He wonders how experienced that makes him, and whether that would be a rude thing to ask.

“What do you do anyway? I never asked,” Hinata is suddenly saying, before Kageyama can let his thoughts drift any more.

“I’m a… music producer,” Kageyama replies, somewhat slowly. It’s been… an indeterminate amount of time since he was last asked what he did for a living, it feels almost strange to say it out loud.

“Really?” Hinata sounds somewhat surprised. “I guess that does kind of suit you…”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Kageyama grumbles, but his voice is too low and Hinata is moving too far away to hear as he starts tapping numbers into his computer.

“So do you write songs and stuff?”

“Mostly the music.” Kageyama stuffs one hand into his pocket and runs his other over Carrot, using her excited chirruping at the newfound attention as a welcome distraction. He’s rarely asked, because he rarely sees _people_ , but this line of questioning always led to what songs he had written, and were they famous, anything people would know?

And there were some very popular ones that did very well in the charts but also Kageyama treasures his anonymity, even if he doesn’t think Hinata is the sort of person to gossip.

But Hinata just lets out an intrigued little hum as he fills out the next section in Carrot’s weight loss diary. “Do you ever get time to make stuff for yourself?”

Kageyama frowns slightly, taken aback by the unexpected question. “How do you mean?”

“Well… I know it’s not quite the same thing, but one of my friends from high school is a fashion designer. Spends all day designing clothes for other people, so he finds it hard to make things for himself when he gets home. Must be hard creating all the time.”

“… Oh,” Kageyama replies, eloquently, as he slips his hand from his pocket to accept the booklet Hinata is handing him with a smile. He’s actually never been asked this. People always want to know what famous thing he’s written, not what he makes for himself in his own time.

“I wrote a song about Carrot yesterday,” he finds himself blurting. Deep regret follows swiftly.

“Really?” Hinata is grinning wide, looking absolutely delighted.

Kageyama dithers, frozen by humiliation, before it occurs to him that Hinata doesn’t look teasing at all. Well… he does obviously like animals a fair bit; maybe he just thinks it’s cute instead of cripplingly embarrassing.

“What’s it called?”

It’s been a while, but Kageyama finds himself longing for Ukai again. At least the old man just got right to the point and wasn’t so _chatty._

“Fat Cat Song,” Kageyama mumbles, feeling his cheeks burn. How did Hinata keep managing to draw all these ruining answers from him? Deliberately averting his gaze, he gathers up the pet carrier from the floor, and all but shoves an unwilling Carrot (who is pitifully mewing at Hinata for some attention) back inside. “Anyway, I’ll see you in two weeks?”

“Fat Cat Song!” Hinata wheezes, sounding thrilled. “Oh wow, that’s amazing. Can I hear it?”

Kageyama flicks a glare towards him, the stare sharpening when he spots that mirthful glint twinkling in Hinata’s eye.

“Two weeks,” he repeats, gruffly, and starts stumbling for the door, the carrier swinging a little too roughly in the breeze in his haste.

“I’ll expect a copy by then!” Hinata calls after him, and Kageyama slams the door behind him with his foot.

* * *

“Okay, how are we both doing today?”

Kageyama looks up warily from where he’s already letting Carrot out of her carrier, raising an eyebrow at Hinata who has just walked in. He’s half expecting to be badgered about the Fat Cat Song - which is finally finished in its true form, and has been sent off to be sold, much to his relief.

(The Carrot version lives on his private laptop, never to be seen or heard by another living creature again.)

But Hinata doesn’t badger, or say anything more at all, just shuffles into the room almost silently. He normally bounds through the door, or greets Kageyama with a huge smile if he’s already in the room. But today he seems a little… dimmer somehow. Subdued almost. Even his cheerful pastel green scrubs seem a little paler.

The both of them are distracted by Carrot before Kageyama can even reply to the question, the ginger cat meowing loudly as she tumbles from her carrier and announces her presence.

Hinata smiles at her, though it seems tight at the edges.

“Hello Pumpkin,” he says softly, crossing over to her. She hardly needs any encouragement to clamber onto the scales, and buts her head gently against Hinata’s hand when he goes to stroke her.

“You can stop calling her Pumpkin now,” Kageyama says, trying to sound moody but falling a little at the first hurdle. It’s hard to keep up a grumpy pretence when Hinata looks… like _that._

The vet is quiet, silently jotting down her weight and taking her measurements, scribbling down the numbers in the booklet Kageyama had already laid out on the examination table. Kageyama frowns hard, shuffling a little closer so he can see Hinata’s face better.

He looks… awful, honestly. Decidedly paler than usual, with the beginnings of dark smudges under his eyes. Even his hair looks limper – not greasy – but like the bounce had wilted away. He looks drained, Kageyama thinks. Exhausted almost.

“Are you okay?” Kageyama finds himself blurting before he can stop himself.

“Huh?” Hinata glances up at him, visibly taken aback. He slips his pen into his pocket and slides the booklet back over the table towards Kageyama, looking at him with no small amount of confusion. “I’m fine?” He replies eventually, though he phrases it as though it were a question.

There’s a beat where neither of them seem to know what to say, and then Hinata is shaking himself and standing upright. “So Carrot’s doing well,” he says, idly stroking the cat in question, who had been lightly patting his forearm with her paw – silently demanding attention. “Keep feeding her that current amount and I’ll see you in-“

“When was the last time you ate?” Kageyama interrupts, before Hinata could finish his sentence.

Carrot’s diet and weight are temporarily shoved from his mind – no less important but their focus suddenly dimming – as he squints at the vet in front of him.

Because Kageyama is no stranger to overworking. He’s seen it in other people and, very briefly, in his own habits as a teenager. Until someone had sat him down and drummed into him the importance of taking care of oneself. And he can see it again now in Hinata – those dark eyes, the drawn look, the unhappy tinge to everything.

Hinata is _tired._

“Huh?” Hinata says again, looking even more thrown the second time round.

Except this time there are no more measurements to take or notes to write down in Carrot’s weight loss journal. And, without any distractions in the way, it allows Kageyama to squint harder at the vet, silently demanding a proper answer to his question.

“I… early this morning I guess?” Hinata replies finally, sounding extremely confused.

“This-“ Kageyama starts to say, and then breaks off. He glances at the clock on the wall. “Hinata,” he murmurs, unable to decide whether he should feel annoyed or even more concerned, “it’s gone four in the afternoon.”

Hinata’s eyes flick over to the clock. “I’m aware,” he responds, his tone a little terse.

Kageyama hesitates. There is probably a line here somewhere that he shouldn’t cross. Hinata is friendly and personable, but he’s also a professional and Kageyama is his client, he shouldn’t be poking into his personal business. But still… it doesn’t sit right with Kageyama, this exhausted look. Like Hinata has been running on full steam for hours and has finally come to the end of his tether but is pushing on anyway.

“You should eat,” he says, trying to phrase his suggestion as politely as he can but it still comes out forcefully regardless.

Hinata frowns a little, and Kageyama feels his spine go rigid in preparation for this all to go south, but then the vet is sighing and raising up a hand to rub at his temples.

“I know,” Hinata says. He groans a little into his palm and then runs his fingers through his hair, rumpling the orange strands before his hand drops, almost smacking against his thigh like a dead weight. “It’s just… been a day.”

“I know this might not be my place,” Kageyama starts, speaking slowly as he finds the words. Then he meets Hinata’s eyes properly – Hinata, who is looking at him curiously, that annoyance from earlier having faded away – and feels himself relax again. “And I know you do… a lot… but you should make sure you eat. And sleep properly.”

Kageyama still remembers even now – being in his teens and spending all of his time shut in his bedroom, trying to make music. His only instruments were a guitar and an unwanted keyboard from a neighbour up the road with half the keys broken, and the software on his laptop was rudimentary at best. But he tried. Spent hours cooped up trying to make the melodies in his head come to life on the page.

The promise of a scholarship beckoned if he did well, and with a scholarship brought actual, viable opportunities for a career, so it wasn’t long before pressure - as well as passion – consumed him.

It had only taken his grandfather a few days to eventually bust open his bedroom door, switch off his laptop and gently tug his guitar away, quietly chiding at him for not coming down for dinner. At the time, Tobio had sulked and protested – until Kazuyo-san had asked him, very softly, how progress was going.

And it hadn’t been _going_ at all, truth be told. The music was there but wouldn’t come, and Tobio had spent more time getting frustrated than he had actually spent creating. Kazuyo-san had simply smiled at this admission and told him it was because Tobio was _tired._ And that the will to continue did not outlast his body’s need for rest and food no matter how much it seemed like it might.

From then on, Kageyama kept to a schedule. He ate well, and regularly. He slept a full eight hours. He allowed himself time to exercise to let his mind settle and wander. He made sure his body was maintained so that the music was never stoppered.

“You can’t do things properly when you’re tired,” he says, back in the present with a pair of curious brown eyes still watching him.

Hinata doesn’t reply at first; simply continues to look at him with those eyes of his until he straightens and drags his hands down his face. When they fall, Kageyama is surprised to see a smile blooming – a welcome burst of warmth amongst all the exhaustion.

“You’re right,” Hinata says, “sometimes I get a little carried away on busy days.”

Kageyama feels his brows furrow. He can see it – Hinata was so willing to bend over backwards to see him and Carrot and to get her on the diet plan (for free, no less), it seems very likely he’d volunteer for everything else that goes down in the practice. It’s easy to forget, with Carrot being young and healthy (weight notwithstanding), the variety of other things Hinata would have to handle. He’s far more than just a dietician who administers booster shots.

“What are you so happy about?” He asks once his mind settles. And indeed, Hinata is still smiling wide as he gives Carrot one last tickle under her chin and receives a head butt against his chest before he’s ushering her inside of her carrier.

“Well, normally most people don’t ask if I’m okay,” Hinata explains as he closes the latch on Carrot’s carrier door. He flicks his gaze back up to Tobio. “It was nice.”

Kageyama’s frown deepens and he lifts Carrot’s carrier with a grunt. That didn’t really… sit right with him. The idea of Hinata seeing person after person, dead on his feet, while nobody noticed makes something in his stomach churn, just a little.

“Get something to eat,” he says, using the same stern tone Hinata uses on him whenever Carrot’s weight comes up.

Hinata inclines his head, still smiling. “I will,” he promises. “And I’ll see you in two weeks!”

Shuffling from the consult room and back through reception, Kageyama gnaws on the inside of his cheek as he thinks.

“Is Hinata… normally very busy?” He asks the receptionist haltingly, as he stands at the desk to make his next appointment.

The woman blinks at him, apparently taken aback by the question. Kageyama’s eyes flick to the nametag on her shirt – she always deals with him; he should probably make the effort to learn her name – Yachi. She taps at her keyboard idly as she considers the question.

“Yes, he is,” she answers eventually. “He’s quite popular! Especially with Ukai still off.”

Kageyama hums as she slides an appointment card across the desk towards him. He sort of figured that’d be the case, but it wasn’t exactly comforting having it confirmed. Taking the offered card and slipping it into his pocket with a murmured thanks, he grabs Carrot’s carrier handle with both hands and heads to his car with his head stuffed full.

When they get back home, Carrot is only just meandering down the hall towards the kitchen, no doubt hoping there will be a snack waiting for her, when Kageyama is standing up and reaching for his keys again.

“I’ll be right back,” he promises to her questioning gaze.

Carrot loops her tail over her back in a question mark and makes a quiet little mewling noise from the kitchen doorway.

“No snacks. It’s nearly dinner time,” Kageyama says, trying to sound stern, but then he has to quickly leave back out of the front door to avoid her pleading eyes before his will is broken.

Stomping back down the stairs of his apartment complex and back outside, he forgoes his car and opts to walk to his next destination – his favourite coffee shop. It stands halfway between all of his usual haunts – his work office, his flat, and, more recently, the vet office. It wasn’t the closest stroll, but Kageyama was keen for exercise, if only to clear his head a little bit.

By the time he’s made it to the shop, he’s feeling a sweat starting to build underneath his jacket while his cheeks sting from the breeze. Early autumn, never falling into one bracket. The doorbell tinkles as he enters, and he opts to shuck his jacket and loop it over his arm as he queues.

He’s just wondering whether he should try one of the shop’s new seasonal drinks they’re advertising when a voice interrupts his thoughts.

“Hello there, Kageyama, what can I get ya?”

Kageyama starts, and focuses his attention onto the person speaking.

Miya Osamu, the shop owner, is for once handling the order desk it seems. Usually he is in the back, cooking, but occasionally he handles the front of the house. Something about getting to know his customers and what they want. He’s friendly enough, even if his accent does throw Kageyama for a loop sometimes, and his food is _delicious._

“I… one of those spicy latte things,” Kageyama requests, waving a hand vaguely at the menu board with the new specials behind Miya. And then, after a slight pause, “also do you do tabs?”

“Tabs?” Miya repeats, cocking a confused eyebrow, halfway between reaching for a coffee cup to go.

“Not for me. Well, I’m paying, but it’s not _for_ me,” Kageyama tries to explain, and then clucks his tongue with impatience. “For other people I mean. If they came here and ordered food and coffee. I could pay for it at the end of the day?”

“Ya got employees?” Miya asks, his other eyebrow rising as well as he moves to the coffee making station. “Thought ya worked alone?”

“I do,” Kageyama mumbles, then raises his voice to be heard over the machinery. “It’s for some… people I know.”

“Friends?”

Kageyama wonders which is weirder: calling two people from a vet office that he only knows the surnames of friends, or arranging a tab for people who are neither friends nor colleagues. “Of a fashion,” he replies, suitably sidestepping the question. “A couple of people working at the vet office.”

“Karasuno?” Miya checks, as he adds milk to Kageyama’s drink – more than the recipe asked for, just how Kageyama likes it.

“You know it?”

“My stupid brother’s got a German Shepherd,” Miya says with a wry grin. “Keeps gettin’ into trouble, so he’s always down there. So ya wanna set up a tab for ‘em?”

“I’d pay it every day,” Kageyama promises. “But yes, so they can order coffee and food.”

Miya gives him a look, like he’s searching for more answers. Kageyama stares back, impassive, and slowly reaches for the finished drink that’s sitting on the counter. Eventually, Miya sighs and folds his arms.

“I guess I can do that. Yer a regular, and I like the staff down at Karasuno plenty whenever I’ve had to accompany ‘Tsumu there, so sure. Ya wanna do the whole staff though? Or just some people in particular? Gonna get kinda expensive…”

“Just two for now,” Kageyama decides, shifting slightly, his awkwardness dissipating slightly under Miya’s acceptance. He feels a _little_ bad for not including the whole team, but Miya’s right, that could get very expensive, very quickly.

“This a… surprise, I take it? They don’t know about it?”

“Correct.”

“Alright. You tell me their names and I’ll call the office up and ask for the guys ya name and tell ‘em they can get what they want on the house. That should keep you on the down low and hopefully keep only the people ya want orderin’ stuff.”

“Thank you,” Kageyama sighs, relieved. This is why he liked Miya – he was a good businessman, as well apparently something of a mind reader.

He slides his card over to pay for his coffee and scribbles down Hinata and Yachi’s names down on the offered napkin that Miya passes over as he processes the payment.

“I’ll call ya at the end of the week,” Miya promises. “Don’t worry about every day, yer in here enough as it is. Ya better pay though or I’ll stop it immediately, got it?”

“Got it. Thank you Miya, I appreciate it.”

“Yer welcome.” The wry grin comes back, a little wider than before. “Mighty nice of ya, I have to admit. I won’t ask why yer doin’ it, but I’m sure they’ll appreciate it.”

“Well…” Kageyama mutters, as he takes a sip of coffee. Spicy, but tempered by the milk. Delicious as always. “Someone needs to make sure that idiot eats.”

If he can’t feed Carrot, might as well feed another ginger dope, he supposes.

* * *

At the end of the week, he gets a call from Miya, right at the end of the work day.

“They were very touched, and kinda modest about what they wanted,” Miya tells him over the phone as he relays the total. “I didn’t wanna push, not sure how much you were willin’ to pay.”

“As much as they want,” Kageyama replies, before reeling off his card details.

“Generous,” Miya quips, before he thanks Kageyama for his business and ends the call.

And, sure enough, when Kageyama arrives at the vet office for his next appointment, he spots Hinata standing behind the reception desk, talking to another member of staff, a coffee cup in his hand. He’s a little far away, but Kageyama can still make out Miya’s logo on the side. The sight makes the corners of his mouth tilt, just a little bit.

Hinata catches his eye as he stumbles further into the waiting room, and grins at him over the top of the coffee cup. Wordlessly, he gestures at the usual consult room door, inviting Kageyama to go on through. Relieved he doesn’t have to put Carrot down and then lift her back up again (she may be losing weight, but she’s still _heavy),_ Kageyama staggers through and into the room.

“Good afternoon!” Hinata sings a short while later, when he enters through the room’s other door, now free of a coffee cup.

Kageyama grunts a reply and then his eyes narrow as Hinata shuffles towards Carrot. He seems just a little… stiff.

“Hello Pumpkin,” Hinata coos, running his hand over Carrot’s hand, who lifts up on her back feet to press her head into the touch with a chirrup.

“You can stop calling her Pumpkin now,” Kageyama grumbles, stuffing his hands into his pockets. “She’s lost loads of weight.”

“But we’re still a bit round, aren’t we?” Hinata says to Carrot, his voice high and silly, and Carrot – clearly a traitor even when she was being insulted – just purrs at him happily, her eyes sliding shut. Hinata brandishes his measuring tape with a grin, “Okay then. Shall we see if we’ve managed the five and a half kilo benchmark, sweetheart?”

He reaches out and grasps Carrot gently and then… doesn’t move.

Kageyama squints.

There’s a short pause, where both Hinata nor Kageyama move and Carrot simply swishes her tail and blinks, and then the vet is emitting a short, sharp gasp.

“What, is there something wrong?” Kageyama demands, scrambling to get around the other side of the examination table so he could see better. “What did you feel?” The vet was only lightly holding Carrot, but he is some sort of medical professional – maybe he felt something bad. Kageyama _knew_ that diet couldn’t be fully trusted, it’s clearly given Carrot some sort of tumour-

Then he squints harder when Hinata doesn’t reply immediately, taking in the vet’s face.

His expression is all scrunched up, his brow knitted in not concentration but something else. Not frustration, or annoyance. Maybe… Pain?

“Uhh… are you okay?” Kageyama questions, torn between bending down a little more so he could see Hinata’s face better and trying to pry his hands away from Carrot, who is still standing on the table looking terribly confused.

“Fine,” Hinata squeaks out, his voice high and thin. “I’m fine.”

“Yeah… you don’t _look_ fine.”

Hinata sucks in a sharp breath through his nose and then straightens, seemingly out of sheer will. Carrot goes with, lifted up the few inches she needs to be in order for Hinata to swivel, like a particularly stiff marionette, and place her on the weighing scales.

“Great!” Hinata says, his voice still a little strained. “Good job Carrot!”

Then silence hangs in the air, and nobody moves.

“Aren’t you going to measure her?” Kageyama prompts, raising an eyebrow. He rests one hand on the weight loss diary, laid out open on the table, and taps his fingers. Something is definitely not right. Why is this idiot so reckless? What’s he done _now?_

“Yep,” Hinata replies, standing stock still and definitely not moving for his measuring tape. “Getting right on that.”

When he doesn’t move for it for another couple of minutes, and Kageyama is just reaching over to grab it and take the damn measurements himself, Hinata finally shifts. He reaches across, at last moving with something resembling speed to grab the tape first. Then he winces mightily, frozen in place in his weird bend, face going very white all of a sudden.

 _“What_ is wrong?” Kageyama demands, his voice getting louder with both his annoyance and steadily rising concern.

“Hurt my back,” Hinata grunts out finally, huffing out two sharp breaths before slowly righting himself back into a proper standing position.

Carrot plops her bottom down on the scales and happily rubs her head across Hinata’s elbow when it moves into her vicinity, purring.

“You hurt your- oh my god,” Kageyama groans, raising his eyes and hands to the ceiling in despair. Why do all of his vets hurt their backs? Is Hinata going to leave him too? _Now_ who’s going to take care of Carrot? “Do all of you just throw your backs out?”

“It’s not _that_ bad,” Hinata protests. Some of the colour has returned to his face now he’s standing fully upright again, but his brow is still twisted.

“You can’t even bend over,” Kageyama points out.

Hinata makes some sort of grumpy, petulant sounding whine deep in his throat, before he snaps his eyes back open and glances back over at Kageyama, as if remembering who his current company was. “I still need to measure Carrot,” he says, voice back to business-like, and his gaze flicks back over to the cat in question, who is still rubbing her head happily over his arm. His expression softens, some of the tension leaving in favour of fondness.

“Yeah, no,” Kageyama decides, his patience finally leaving him. “I’ll do it. If you keep on like that you’ll be bedridden by the end of the day. Why are you even here anyway?”

“I can’t exactly just… leave,” Hinata replies, some of his professional tone leaving again. It never seems to stay for very long though, even when Hinata isn’t fighting monstrous back pain. “I’m fine. I just lifted a dog this morning who ended up being… a little _heavier_ than I thought he would be. It’s really not that bad.”

“Uh huh.”

“It’s not!”

“Go sit down,” Kageyama instructs, waving a hand irritably at the direction of the little stool by the computer at the other end of the room. “I can take the measurements.”

He snatches up the measuring tape before Hinata has a chance to grab it (not that he would’ve been quick enough to compete anyway) and glares warningly at him. Hinata glares back – having seemingly forgotten all professional pretence again – and goes to argue.

“Don’t cheat.”

“I’m not- I don’t _cheat!”_ Kageyama is mortally offended. He’s never cheated at anything in his life. How was he supposed to prove he was the best at anything if he cheated? “I know how to measure things. And won’t you know if I’m lying anyway? It’d be too far out.”

Hinata looks like he wants to argue more – out of professional pride or sheer stubbornness, Kageyama doesn’t know which and he sighs, moving around the examination table towards the vet.

“Go sit down,” he repeats, now essentially shooing Hinata across the room. “Before you pull something even worse and cannot move and then I have to drag you out of here and hurt _my_ back.”

“How did you even come to that scenario?” Hinata wonders, but he does, eventually, start shuffling towards the stool in the corner. It’s slow progress, and he’s more than just a little stiff, but he finally makes it to his seat. At which point he hovers, as if unsure whether to sit down.

Kageyama glances up from where he’s looping the measuring tape around Carrot’s abdomen like he’s seen Hinata do so many times. “That isn’t sitting down,” he points out.

Hinata shoots him a withering look over his shoulder – or as best as he can manage anyway, without moving too much.

 _Oh_ , Kageyama realises once the vet continues to just… not sit. Maybe that also hurts too much. So, chewing on the inside of his cheek, he finishes his measurements, tickles Carrot behind her ears for being so patient, and then moves towards Hinata.

“Here,” he murmurs once he’s near, offering an arm.

Hinata flicks his gaze from Kageyama’s own to his arm, hesitating, before finally reaching out to grasp the offered forearm. “Thanks,” he grunts, using Kageyama as a brace to lean his weight against as he lowers himself onto the stool.

“You really should go home,” Kageyama mutters once the vet is finally seated. “You can barely move.”

“I’ll be fine once the painkillers kick in,” Hinata replies, dismissive. “Have you got Carrot’s book?”

Kageyama clucks his tongue, wanting to argue, but eventually he gives up the fight, trudging back to the examination table to snatch up the diary. Carrot doesn’t even acknowledge his presence when he nears, instead dancing on her feet and peering wide-eyed at her new favourite person, who has very much distanced himself from her.

“He’s a moron who hurt himself, so he can’t give you any strokes,” Kageyama tells her, mood souring slightly when she ignores him.

What was it like to receive Carrot’s undivided attention? He can’t even remember anymore.

“Sorry Pumpkin,” Hinata calls, looking suitably apologetic. Though, to his credit, he doesn’t move from his chair, even when Carrot mewls unhappily from the table.

Kageyama passes the book over to Hinata, who takes it and manages to scribble down the new values in the columns without having to move his torso too much.

“Well we’re still on target, so that’s good,” Hinata smiles, passing it back over once he’s done. “If we can get her down to five kilos by her next visit we can probably lower her ration.”

 _“Lower it?”_ Kageyama repeats, aghast. “Why do you want to _lower_ it? She’s basically starving already!”

Hinata starts to laugh, and then stops almost immediately with a grimace. “She’s not _starving,”_ he chides, once the twinge settles. “She’s been doing fine at home, hasn’t she? If we keep her on this amount she might not lose any more and we still have over another kilo to go.”

Kageyama crinkles the pages of the weight loss booklet between his fingers as he scowls, trying to not look too obviously annoyed, or worried. It’s true that Carrot has been settling – she still meows, but she seems a lot more content compared to the beginning. But still, he’s feeding her so _little_ already…

He looks over at his beloved cat, who is still ignoring him in favour of staring at Hinata rapturously. At this rate she was going to jump down and run over to him. Oh, to be her favourite again…

“I don’t want to make her sad,” he finds himself saying.

“We can up it again if it doesn’t work,” Hinata reassures, and when Kageyama looks back over at him, he’s smiling softly.

“… Fine,” Kageyama acquiesces, still unhappy but willing to go along with it for now. He’ll hold Hinata to his word if Carrot looks even _slightly_ sad, however. Crossing the room with finality, he lifts the carrier from the floor to usher Carrot into it. “And you better go home after this.”

“Very soon,” Hinata promises, waving at Carrot’s carrier when her meows start echoing through the plastic slats. “See you in two weeks.”

* * *

“Is there anything wrong with you today?” Is Kageyama’s greeting upon his next visit.

Hinata raises an eyebrow as he steps back from opening the door to his consult room, looking extremely amused. “No?” He replies, sounding like he was trying very hard not to laugh. “Should there be?”

“You’ve had lunch?” Kageyama checks. “Not hurt yourself? Everything is in one piece? Not been in danger? Have you been bitten?”

“Yes, no, yes, not that I’m aware of, and… no,” Hinata reels off, his amusement starting to fade into confusion. “Am I missing something?”

“Yes, you’re a reckless idiot,” Kageyama says, because this was obvious – this is the first time he’s seen Hinata look his normal bright self in almost six weeks.

Hinata opens his mouth to argue, apparently on reflex, and then pauses. Seemingly the last couple of visits finally resurface in his memory and he swallows his retort, looking caught between annoyed and mildly embarrassed.

“Those were just… bad days,” he says, airily, in a tone that suggests not to argue with him, and waves at the scales.

Kageyama would bite back, he _would_ … but he also has a business call for the latest song he’d completed in an hour and needs to be back for it. These weight checks always last longer than he intends them to.

“I never asked,” Hinata says as he’s making note of her weight and looping his trusty measuring tape around Carrot’s waist (with some manoeuvring, as she was desperately trying to rub her head across his chin.) “But was she a rescue?”

“Sort of?” Kageyama replies, tilting his head as he considers this. “My sister knew someone who had a litter that needed homes, and… well I always liked cats, but they never really seemed to like _me._ And a kitten seemed like a safe choice?” He shrugs and then hunches his shoulders, suddenly aware of what he’d just admitted. His track record with the local stray cats was not… something he was exactly proud of. “Anyway, she was my favourite.”

“Because she’s sweet?” Hinata guesses, finishing taking his measurements and allowing Carrot to rub her head all over his chin and across his jaw. She purring so loudly she’s almost drooling. It’s getting a little ridiculous, actually, how ecstatic she is to see him each time. He’s a vet. He has _needles._

“Because she’s orange,” Kageyama clarifies, once he’s snapped back to attention. All kittens were _sweet,_ so that wasn’t it (though he was very grateful Carrot had kept her sweet nature into adulthood) – it really was because she was - “Ginger, I mean. I like gingers.”

“Oh do you now?”

Kageyama blinks from where he’d been staring at Carrot’s bright citrus fur to Hinata, who is looking at him with a sly grin on his face, eyebrow cocked.

He’s perplexed, just for a moment, before his eyes are drawn to Hinata’s undeniably very bright, very noticeable, very _ginger_ hair, and feels his face catch on fire.

“Not like- not like _that!”_ He splutters, voice climbing higher in his crippling embarrassment. Not that Hinata’s hair isn’t a nice shade, because it _is_ , Kageyama has to admit. It’s soft and coppery and catches the light nicely and compliments his green scrubs and-

No. He is not spiralling off into fantasies about Hinata’s red hair.

“She’s a girl,” he hurries to say, once his voice has returned, albeit still a little strangled sounding. “I didn’t know girls could be… orange.” He can’t bring himself to say ‘ginger’ again; it’s too humiliating.

Hinata snickers, his eyes still twinkling with mischievous merriment, but to Kageyama’s relief, he doesn’t push any further. “Ginger girls are rare,” he allows, turning his attention to Carrot, who is all but crawling up his torso for more attention. “Aren’t you Pumpkin?” He coos. “Not many ginger ladies. Are you putting in a good word for us redheads?”

Kageyama has to slide a hand up to cover his face so whatever constipated, complicated expression it’s currently crumpling into is hidden from sight. Peeking out from between his fingers, he watches as Carrot finally manages to get purchase on Hinata’s chest, so that she can reach his cheeks.

He watches as Hinata slides his hands up and down Carrot’s sides, and as she starts licking his chin in return, her purrs start loudly echoing in the room.

This is hopeless, he thinks, as his twists itself into fancy knots in his chest.

His cat is in love with the vet. He’s been abandoned. He’s been abandoned for… for someone actually kind of cute.

Kageyama’s face catches fire _again_ as soon as the thought pops into his head, and he manages to peek at Hinata – all smiles and sunshine and cooing happily – just once more before he raises his other hand and covers his face with that one as well.

Great. Just great. Not only has he lost the coveted spot of being Carrot’s number one person, he’s also thinking of the thief as good looking. Handsome. Attractive.

“Are you okay?”

Kageyama parts his fingers just enough to peer through the gap at Hinata, who’s looking back at him with mirth dancing in his eyes.

“Fine,” he snaps back in return, dropping his hands like dead weights instantly, and willing his blood flow to return to normal.

Hinata tilts his head at him, some of the mischief leaving for a more genuine smile, and Kageyama feels all of his insides jumble.

Well wasn’t this just fantastic.

“Why ‘Carrot’?” Hinata asks, apparently in no hurry to get their appointment done, judging by all the chatty questions.

“Because she’s orange,” Kageyama says, because obviously, and also to hurry things up so he can leave and get his blood pressure back to normal. And get some fresh air. And get to his business call. And just generally forget about Hinata’s existence for two weeks so he can function at regular capacity. “I brought her home, I was cooking curry, I looked at the carrots and they were orange. She’s orange. Simple. Same time in two weeks?”

“Carrots are orange…” Hinata muses, sounding close to laughing again. “They’re also healthy, aren’t they Pumpkin? Not like your diet…”

Carrot rubs her nose all over his cheek, her eyes closed in lovesick bliss as she rumbles loudly. Hinata rubs her behind her ears and grins wickedly, going from sunshine to a goblin in a blink.

Kageyama takes it back. He’s not handsome at all.

(The thought only lasts until the trip home, where he nearly runs a red light thinking about how Hinata’s eyes looked like sticky toffee pudding when he was smiling.)


	3. Chapter Three: 4.5kg

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> speshul thanks and kithes for cupcake and roxanne for their help with this chapter!! <3

_Mraaaoooow..._

Tobio frowns from where he was tuning the strings on his guitar and looks around for the source of the wailing.

But Carrot, despite her rather loud and insistent plea, is nowhere to be seen. So Tobio frowns a little harder and cranes an ear. Normally when he's seated on the sofa to play, Carrot joins him, either curling up in one of her many cat beds around the room, or clambering up onto the cushions to sprawl across his feet. If he can hear her but can't _see_ her... she's probably in the kitchen, hoping she sounds distraught enough that he will leap to his feet immediately to feed her.

(She kind of does, but Tobio will resist. They've been doing so well.)

Resuming tuning, he's just idly strumming a couple of strings to see if the sound is how he wants it, when Carrot once again starts warbling from the depths of the flat. Tobio doesn't move to look over his shoulder this time, instead sitting still and waiting. There's a short pause before she's crying again and, with concern starting to twinge in his chest, he lowers his guitar to rest it gently on the sofa and gets to his feet. That doesn't really sound like Carrot's usual dramatic cries when she wanted something - she sounds almost _sad._

"Carrot?" he calls, sticking his head into the kitchen as his first point of call. No answer, and no cat to be seen either. The room is empty. Unlike... her food bowl.

Concern now fully blossoming into worry, Tobio pads across the kitchen floor and crouches down to pick up the food bowl, shaking it. The biscuits at the bottom skitter around. About half, maybe, of what she normally had for breakfast. And he's never known her, even at the beginning of her diet when she hated it, to not finish any of her meals.

"Carrot?" He calls again, louder this time, as he straightens. 

There's an answering meow from deeper within the flat.

Heading out and into the hallway, Tobio follows the sound until he reaches his bedroom, sticking his head through the doorway. And there is Carrot, lying on top of the bedspread, a stark blob of orange on top of the white sheets. She sometimes joins him in bed when he's sleeping, but never when he's awake and elsewhere in the house. Yet, even when he enters the room fully, she doesn't move to greet him – she stays curled up on the bedspread, looking hunched and uncomfortable.

"What's wrong?" Tobio asks softly, closing the distance quickly and climbing up onto the bed himself to slide across the sheets until he’s next to her in the centre. Carrot gently butts her head against his palm when he reaches for her, but still doesn't move, letting out another pitiful, warbling noise.

"Do you have a tummy ache?"

He hasn't found any... _presents_ , while searching for her, but it’s always possible she’s left one elsewhere. He hasn't checked her tray either. He can't remember the last time she had an upset stomach, if ever, and the realisation tightens the knot in his stomach even tighter. Gently, he runs his hand from where he was softly tickling her behind her ears, down her neck to her side. Carrot doesn't squirm or move away from the touch, but she does grouse miserably into the bedsheets, her little ears folding flat against her head. 

"Okay, okay," Kageyama tries to soothe, both himself and Carrot. Bending over to press a little kiss to her forehead, he slowly slides back across the bed and hurries from the room in search of his phone.

He's dialling the vets within five minutes.

It occurs to him, a bit too late, as the ringtone drones on his ear, that today is a Saturday. And while the office is open, Hinata may very well not be working today. And Ukai is still, to his knowledge, off work recovering. Which means he might have to talk to a _stranger-_

“Is Hinata working today?” he asks as soon as the receptionist – Yachi, to his immense relief – picks up, his voice far too loud and his words tumbling in his rising anxiety.

“Yes, he is. Who should I say is…? Kageyama?”

Kageyama’s knees nearly give out with relief.

“Yes, Kageyama. Carrot. Emergency,” Kageyama grits out, forcing himself to stop speaking before he starts blabbering. The quicker he gets passed over to Hinata, the better.

“One moment…”

Jaunty, overly cheerful hold music starts tinkling over the speaker and Kageyama starts pacing to filter away his nervous energy. On the bed, Carrot tightens herself into a tighter little ball, mewling softly into the duvet and Kageyama finds himself yelling _“hurry up!”_ into the void of piano playing before he can regain control.

And then, as his worry is building into something unbearable just behind his temples, there’s a soft click, and a whisper of breath as Hinata picks up the call. 

“Hinata,” he’s blurting out, just as the hold music stops and the line picks up, “something’s wrong with Carrot.”

There’s the briefest of pauses, where Kageyama worries that Hinata is going to tease or use _that_ voice that suggests he’s smiling or being indulgent, and most of the time Kageyama can put up with that – just about – but today he _can’t_ and-

“What’s the matter?” Hinata butts in, scattering his panicked thoughts. To Hinata’s credit, he doesn’t sound scornful or amused at all, his voice rich with concern instead. There’s a crackle over the line, a muffled voice, and the sound of a door closing. Then Hinata’s voice comes back again, clearer than before. “Tell me.”

“She doesn’t… she doesn’t _look_ right. She’s all… I don’t know… _tight_ and she’s crying and she just isn’t _herself,”_ Kageyama manages, and then curses himself for stumbling over his words. He can see exactly what’s wrong; it’s right in front of his eyes, but why is it so _hard_ to describe?

“Calm down,” Hinata says, voice low and soothing. “Just describe what she looks like. You don’t have to work out _why_ she looks unwell. That’s what I’m here for.”

Kageyama lifts the phone away from his ear so he can suck in a breath and let it out again slowly, willing his panic to die down. Just describe what he sees. Okay, he can do that. “She didn’t finish breakfast,” he starts, trying to work from the beginning. “And she’s never not finished a meal, not ever.”

“I can see that.” Hinata’s voice sounds like he’s smiling again, but it’s warm, the sort of teasing that doesn’t make Kageyama’s hair stand on end but rather seeps in through his skin – comforting and warm.

“And she’s just… lying on the bed, but she’s all hunched? Not relaxed at all. And she whines when I stroke her, like something hurts.” He feels terribly childish, trying to explain it like this. He stands in his bedroom, looking down at his cat, who is still curled into a sad little ball and not looking at him, and flexes his free hand in and out of a fist. Just _waiting_ for some scathing remark, or-

“She sounds sore,” Hinata agrees, sympathy drenching his words. “Has she had any sickness? Stomach upset?”

“I haven’t seen anything…”

“Alright, well, as it’s only just happened, you can keep an eye on her if you want, or you can come see me and I’ll check her over for you.”

“Today?” Kageyama asks hopefully, flicking his eyes over to the clock on the wall. It’s a weekend, he has no idea of the veterinary office’s weekend hours, surely they’ll be busy, and is he being too pushy if he wants to see Hinata specifically-

“If you want me to,” Hinata says, sounding soft and soothing again. “Just let me know how long you’ll be.”

Kageyama wanders around in a clumsy sort of circle, dragging his free hand through his hair as he frantically tries to think of how long it took him on average to get to the vets. “Maybe thirty minutes?”

“Alright, I’ll see you then.”

Kageyama has barely any time to blurt out a thank you before the line clicks dead and he’s left to scramble to find Carrot’s carrier.

It’s only thirty minutes when there’s absolutely no traffic, after all.

* * *

“Hello Pumpkin…”

Hinata’s voice is incredibly soft as he coaxes Carrot out from her carrier – she crawls out at his voice, gravitating towards him as always, but she remains hunched, slinking across the examination table instead of trotting across it.

“She was fine yesterday?” Hinata asks Kageyama, flicking his gaze up to him briefly as he checks Carrot’s eyes, ears, and then peeks inside her mouth. “Nothing out of the ordinary?”

“No, I don’t think so,” Kageyama replies, after giving it a second’s thought. He raises his hand to his mouth and neatly starts chewing on a fingernail before he lowers his hand again forcefully. Bad habit. “Should I have noticed something sooner?”

“Probably not…” Hinata murmurs, half distracted as he unwinds the stethoscope from around his neck and listens to Carrot’s heart. “Cats like to hide when they’re unwell. Could be acute, which means it only just started today, or if it was earlier, she might have hidden signs.”

Kageyama feels his mouth purse into a petulant pout. He’s fairly sure Carrot would have told him if she was feeling unwell, but he doesn’t voice this, lest Hinata think he’s being ridiculous.

He shuffles forward, swapping places with Hinata at her front end, rubbing his fingers reassuringly behind her ears as Hinata swiftly takes her temperature. She flinches and folds her ears, but otherwise doesn’t move.

“Good girl…” Kageyama whispers, unsure if she was indeed behaving or simply didn’t want to move even with the intrusion, but he praises her nonetheless.

“Okay… stand up for me sweetheart,” Hinata encourages, gently lifting her by her sides until she stood, somewhat unwillingly.

Kageyama forces his hands to stay on the table to not get in the way of Hinata palpating, even when Carrot squirms a little under the pressure and stares up at him with huge, unhappy eyes. He feels his heart start to crack under her gaze, and tries to offer her the smallest of smiles – before he lets it drop instantly. He’s not smiling on command. No good will come from scaring Carrot even more.

As Hinata drags his hands back across her body, she wiggles and mewls, loud and unhappy.

“Oh, you _are_ sore,” Hinata murmurs. Dropping his hands from her sides, he runs them soothingly over her back, petting her in apology.

“Is she going to be okay?” Kageyama demands, voice high and a little thin.

“Of course she is,” Hinata replies immediately, and there’s something about his easy confidence that manages to undo some of the tension knotting up Kageyama’s muscles. “Has she been to the toilet today? To urinate, specifically.”

Kageyama’s worried frown deepens into a thoughtful one as he considers the question. He often tunes out the sound of Carrot scratching around in her litter tray, being such a common background noise – no different to the sounds of doors slamming in his apartment building, or the hum and whir of his computer fans. So even as he tries to think, he can’t come up with anything particularly unusual. He shrugs helplessly.

“Probably? I normally clean her tray once a day but I haven’t done it yet…”

“Hmmm…” Hinata hums to himself, tapping his fingers on the examination table as he continues to pet Carrot, who has hunkered back down into a sad little crouch. “It’s just her bladder feels very empty, and it’s there she seems to be sore when I’m feeling her abdomen. She might have cystitis… unless she did a normal pee very recently?”

“She hasn’t been in the last hour or so,” Kageyama offers, mouth pursing. Cystitis?

Hinata steps back from the table and runs a hand through his hair, rumpling the mess of orange even further. Apparently veterinarians don’t own hairbrushes.

“Well, considering she doesn’t seem to have an upset stomach or any other symptoms, I would probably say monitor her at home for anything further. I’m going to give her some pain relief, just so she’s comfortable, and then you can call me tomorrow and let me know how she’s doing.”

“Tomorrow’s Sunday,” Kageyama points out, just as Hinata is leaving the room, apparently going to fetch some medicine.

He receives no reply, so Kageyama tuts, turning his attention back to Carrot and crouching down in front of her. “I bet that moron works every day of the week,” he tells her, rubbing at the soft fur behind her ears. She closes her eyes at the touch, leaning into his hand. “Never takes any breaks.”

He’s torn between feeling annoyed and grateful about it. On one hand, seeing someone run themselves so willingly into the ground immediately was making him lose all patience, but on the other… It was Hinata’s dedication that was getting Carrot treatment so quickly. Kageyama rubs behind Carrot’s ears a little firmer, uncomfortable with his internal dilemma.

The door swings back open again and Hinata’s voice floats through. “Right, so it’s just a quick injection.”

Kageyama flicks his gaze from Carrot up to the syringe in Hinata’s hands. “Will it hurt?” He asks with some trepidation, already straightening in preparation to draw Carrot into the safety of his arms.

Hinata tugs the needle cap off with his teeth – he really needed to stop doing that, it was quite… distressing – and rounds the table to be at Carrot’s other side. “It might sting,” he warns, voice muffled around the plastic still in his mouth. “I need to get to her back though so you can’t cuddle her,” he adds, when Kageyama moves to pick her up.

“But she’ll hate it,” Kageyama protests.

“Just talk to her and give her a tickle,” Hinata instructs, “This’ll take me like, two seconds, I promise.”

Carrot makes a soft chirrupy noise as Hinata presses the pads of his fingers into her lower back, moving to turn her head to face him.

“Look at me,” Kageyama murmurs at her, stroking the fur on her cheek until she returns her gaze back at him, her eyes wide and questioning. “Don’t pay attention to him for a second, if you can manage it.”

Hinata snorts, and Kageyama just spots him swiftly slipping the needle in, depressing the plunger, and removing it, all within a blink. He was very fast, to his credit. Carrot flicks her ears, but otherwise doesn’t protest, instead sitting up when both Hinata and Kageyama stop touching her, the muscles across her back twitching just a bit.

“At least I can find a muscle now!” Hinata says cheerfully as he removes the plastic cap from between his teeth and sticks back onto his needle. “Before that would’ve been an injection into her fat instead, wouldn’t it Pumpkin?”

Carrot chirrups and swivels her head to look at him, tail swishing lightly over the table.

“Don’t embarrass her when she’s not feeling well,” Kageyama scolds, moving to draw his poor cat to his torso. Carrot burrows in close, sticking her face in the gap between his jacket and t-shirt.

“It was a compliment!”

Kageyama narrows his eyes at the sunny smile sent his way, unimpressed, as Hinata dumps his needle into the special bin on the side. “How long until she feels better?”

“Should kick in by the time she gets home,” Hinata says. “Keep an eye on her for the next twenty-four hours. Let me know tomorrow how she’s doing, even if she’s completely normal. I’ll put you up some cystitis supplements too, just in case. You can sprinkle them in the food if she starts showing signs – normally they’re in and out of the tray a lot.”

“Tomorrow’s Sunday,” Kageyama reiterates again, gently coaxing Carrot out from her hiding place in his jacket so he can usher her back into her carrier and take her home.

“I’ll be here.”

Kageyama flicks his gaze from Carrot – just starting to shuffle out from the folds of his clothes sulkily – to Hinata, who is standing by his computer.

He’s doing nothing particularly special – simply typing his notes on his computer – but Kageyama can’t help but stare a little anyway. There’s something particularly arresting about Hinata’s face when he’s thinking, when his brow is creased in deep concentration and he looks overall a lot more serious, but still losing none of his warmth.

“I’m working this whole weekend,” Hinata goes on to say, snapping Kageyama out of his ogling. He clicks at something on the system with a flourish and then turns to face Kageyama fully with a smile, planting his hands on his hips. “So you can call me, okay? I sent the medication details to the front desk so they’ll have it ready for you. They’re capsules, just need to sprinkle them on her food if she’s showing any signs later.”

“On her _diet_ food…”

“If she’s really fussy, on something she likes more is okay. Just this once!” Hinata lifts one hand to point at Kageyama sternly. “She’s finally made it under five kilos so don’t feed her up because she’s feeling unwell!”

“I won’t!” Kageyama pouts, nudging Carrot until she scrambles to get back into her carrier.

It’s a little lie. He _was_ planning on giving Carrot a little something nice… she deserved it!

“Hmmm,” Hinata squints at him, before it drops in favour of that soft, kind smile again. “I’ll speak to you tomorrow, alright? But call me sooner if anything happens and you’re really worried.”

Kageyama looks at him, at his sweet smile and confident pose and the way his arms look _really_ good in that scrub top design and nearly trips over Carrot’s carrier instead of picking it up.

“Do you work every day?” he snaps, both to cover up his embarrassment and also to vent his frustration on Hinata being simply determined to work himself into an early grave.

“No, I have some time off next week to make up for it,” Hinata says, eyes twinkling. “Do you need a hand?”

Kageyama stumbles around the plastic of Carrot’s carrier, still on clumsy feet, and has to steady himself on the examination table before he can safely lift her. _“No,”_ he growls, standing upright to walk – with dignity – to the door. Now Carrot has gotten some pain relief and Hinata doesn’t seem to be overly worried he feels much calmer about the situation.

If only humiliation didn’t fill the void so swiftly.

He’s halfway across the waiting room – caught up in his hurry to leave – before it occurs to him that he didn’t say goodbye or thank you. So he staggers the rest of the way to the reception desk, gently plonks Carrot’s carrier down on top of it, hurriedly asks Yachi to keep an eye on her, and all but dashes back into Hinata’s consult room.

Hinata blinks at him when he tumbles in, seated at his computer, his eyes wide over a coffee cup from Miya’s shop.

Kageyama feels his heart flip over in his chest.

“Thanks,” he gasps, and then stands there awkwardly for a few long, horridly awkward seconds, twisting his hands in and out of fists by his sides.

“For seeing Carrot,” he forces out, when Hinata offers nothing further except more baffled blinking. “On a Saturday. In forty minutes.”

“Oh!” Hinata sets his cup down and grins at him, sunshine in pastel green. “Of course! Anytime.”

Kageyama opens his mouth to say something more, finds all the words smothered silent by that stupid, gorgeous smile, and closes it again with a clack of teeth. He raises his hand stiffly, bobs his head once, and then scuttles back out the room to rescue Carrot without saying anything more.

* * *

True to Hinata’s word, by the time Kageyama gets Carrot home she seems to be mostly her usual self – if a little quieter than usual.

She doesn’t skulk off to his bedroom, opting to stay by his side as normal, and even finishes all of her dinner with no complaints. She does eye him warily when he stands over her like a hawk whenever she strays near her litter tray, but otherwise she seems to be perfectly normal again.

So Kageyama stashes the little box of capsules in his medicine cupboard, calls Hinata first thing the next morning to dutifully tell him that Carrot seemed to be just fine – feels his heart squeeze at how genuinely relieved Hinata seemed to be to hear it – and tries to put the whole incident out of his mind.

Just a blip. Everyone has bad days, even cats.

But the positive thinking doesn’t even last forty-eight hours, as when Kageyama steps through his front door upon returning home from work on Monday evening, he’s greeted not by excited chirping from a Carrot pleased to see him, but by sounds of wailing and frantic scratching from deeper in the flat.

Heart rate ticking up immediately, Kageyama bites his lip, sheds his coat and shoes at record speed, and dashes for the bathroom where Carrot’s tray is kept.

Carrot peers up at him when he arrives in the doorway, her eyes huge and sad, as she turns in a little fruitless circle in her tray, scratches madly at the litter – spraying it all over the floor – squats, gets up, hops out, hops in-

“Oh my god, you’re doing the thing,” Kageyama wheezes, feeling panic starting to set in. “The tray thing. Right. You need the- the capsule things… _ow, fuck.”_

He grunts as his socked feet stand on litter, the little stones digging sharply into the soles of his feet as he makes his way to the medicine cabinet to fetch the medicine he had stored there. Thankfully, Carrot does seem to be at least a _little_ pleased to see him, following him willingly as he makes his way back to the kitchen.

But there’s definitely something wrong.

Instead of her usual trotting, tail held high in the high as she keeps close to his heels, she follows a few steps behind, tail low, steps slinking and hunched, like she couldn’t bear to be fully upright.

Kageyama empties her food into a bowl – just about managing to remember to weigh it – and empties a capsule on top with shaking fingers. When he deposits it in front of Carrot she sniffs it, lets out a plaintive, sad little mewl, and looks up at him, eyes wide and hopelessly sad.

“It doesn’t taste good?” Kageyama frowns at her, crouching down to her level to run his hand over her head. She leans into the touch, but doesn’t purr, or close her eyes happily, just swishes her tail over the kitchen floor.

Carrot leans her head down to give her food bowl one last sniff, gently butts Kageyama’s fingers with her forehead, and then scampers out of the kitchen and back down the hall.

Kageyama hears the manic scratching in the litter tray before he even makes it to the bathroom.

It only takes two rounds of Carrot launching in and out of her tray, wandering around the flat mewling pitifully before repeating the cycle before he snaps – reaching for his phone. His thumb hovers over the vets’ phone number, simply through sheer habit at this point, before he reconsiders and opens Google.

Hinata had already told him to give Carrot the capsules – he just needs some tips on how to do that, that’s all.

Twenty minutes later, Carrot is on round six of getting into her tray and Kageyama is sprawled into a heap on the hallway floor, staring at his phone screen with wide, unblinking eyes, the device just mere millimetres from his nose.

What had started as a simple search about feline cystitis had turned into a wormhole of terrifying information. From bacteria to stress to spasms to the words _blocked bladder_ and _emergency_ and _life threatening._ Kageyama absorbs each and every article and forum post he finds until his eyes start aching and his chest refuses to expand properly.

It’s only when his phone buzzes in his hand to inform him his battery is running low that he jerks back into reality, swallowing roughly before finally slamming his thumb down on the dial button.

He’s barely two seconds into the call with Yachi before he’s making an emergency appointment. “I’ll be thirty minutes,” he promises – too panicked to even ask if Hinata was even there. He just needs to get Carrot to the vet. Now. Right now, before her bladder explodes.

Scrambling to his feet, he’s pulled his shoes on, grabbed his car keys and has Carrot’s carrier ready to go in record time – all ready to nudge Carrot herself inside and get going when he pauses.

Carrot – currently stuck in one of her paces around the flat – looks at her plastic prison, folds her ears, and flops over sideways onto the floor in protest, her tail thwapping the floor.

Kageyama goes to encourage her, coax her softly into getting inside so they can get going when he remembers, vividly and all at once, the amount of times the word ‘stress’ had come up in all of those warning articles.

And, well, going to the vets was pretty stressful, no matter how much she seemed to enjoy seeing Hinata each time.

Kageyama switches from looking at Carrot – still on her side – to the carrier and back again, mind spinning with indecision. Go? Or not to go? If he doesn’t go she won’t get any medicine but if he _does_ go and makes her stressed then she’ll just get _worse_ and then she really might-

He’s back on the phone in the next thirty seconds.

“We’re not coming,” Kageyama tells a bewildered Yachi, who starts to ask if he’s sure. “I’m going to…”

He has no idea what he’s going to do.

“Handle things here,” he says, with all the false confidence he can possibly muster. “No, no, I’m sure we don’t need the appointment. No, she’s not better. Yes I’m still worried. But she can’t get too stressed, I checked, so I’m just going to… keep her here. Yes. Thank you, Yachi.”

Kageyama ends the call before he can be persuaded otherwise and lopes off to the living room, dragging his hands down his face. The supplements. He should try giving her the supplements again.

Kageyama sits on the sofa and watches Carrot amble into the living room in his wake, tail and ears down, and flop onto the carpet in front of him, looking absolutely miserable. He manages to stay still for all of a minute before he’s sliding off the sofa and slipping down onto the floor, sprawling across the carpet opposite his poor cat.

“Will you take the supplements in milk? Or some fish?” he whispers, running his hand along her side.

The diet be damned, if those little capsule things will make Carrot feel better then Kageyama will give her all the fish and milk she wants. Hinata can bite him if she becomes round again – this is _important._

But then… those websites did speak about weight. How it was a common cause, how it could make it worse.

Kageyama turns and buries his face into the carpet fibres to groan – Carrot following suit with a little mewl – and tries to ignore the guilt that burns its way through his guts. Was this his fault? All those years never measuring anything, burying his head into the metaphorical sand and never acknowledging how spherical she was getting… and now Carrot was paying the price.

Turning his head, the skin on his cheek stinging with carpet burn, he sighs in quiet despair, continuing to pet Carrot while his mind tumbles further. But what can he do? Stress makes it worse, so he’s probably best leaving her here… but what if she’s blocked? What if it gets worse? Does she need medicine? Surgery? Should he call back? Or just leave her to it… try and get her to take those capsule things.

For an indeterminate amount of time, Kageyama lies there on the floor, running his fingers over soft orange fur, and simply frets. Worries hard enough that he feels the beginnings of a very bad headache start to pound between in his skull and his stomach start to cramp. But no simple solution comes to him, and he’s just starting to ponder the merits of trawling the internet again when a very loud and insistent buzz sounds through the flat and shatters his train of misery.

Lifting his head from the floor in confusion, it takes him a moment, but then Kageyama realises that that’s his phone, rattling away on the sofa cushions. Slightly baffled, he eases his way up from his sad pile on the floor and shuffles on his knees over to it, brows knitting as he picks it up to peer at the screen.

The frown melts away instantly when the words Karasuno Veterinary Practice shine back out at him.

Hope and worry flare in equal measure in his chest as he swipes at the screen to take the call.

“Kageyama?”

Kageyama’s head falls forward until his forehead is resting against the sofa cushions when Hinata’s concerned voice floats over the speaker. Lost in panic, he had forgotten he could pester Hinata, and hearing his voice now – soft and worried – is like a balm over his shattered nerves.

“What’s going on?” Hinata prompts, when Kageyama doesn’t speak up straight away. “Yachi told me you made an emergency appointment but then cancelled it? Is everything alright?”

“I think Carrot’s bladder is blocked and if I move her she’ll die,” Kageyama says, all in a rush, and then mashes his face fully into the sofa cushion as embarrassment floods him temporarily. Okay, he may be _thinking_ that, but saying it out loud does sound a little… dramatic.

Sucking in a fortifying breath, he shoves himself away from the sofa as Hinata is muttering out _“what?”_ on the other end of the line and arranges himself so that he is sitting cross-legged in front of Carrot, who is still flopped over on the floor looking terribly sorry for herself.

“She’s been doing that thing you mentioned. The hopping in and out of the tray thing. And it was hard getting her to take those capsule things on her biscuits, so I went on the internet-“

“And started Googling,” Hinata finishes for him, sounding a little exasperated.

Kageyama frowns, a little insulted. “The internet is useful,” he points out. “And it said that if cats are doing that then it could be-“

“The internet is _okay,_ but it always gives you the worst case scenario,” Hinata cuts in again, his tone losing some of its exasperation and gaining that edge he puts on it when he isn’t going to hear an argument. “And sitting around panicking isn’t going to help, is it?”

“Well… no,” Kageyama admits, unsure whether to feel stupid or not. He probably should, because Hinata does – annoyingly – have a point. But there’s something about his no-nonsense tone that shakes him out of it. “But I don’t want to make it worse by stressing her out – that is a thing, isn’t it? With… with bladder… things.”

“It is,” Hinata allows, “but there’s not much I can do from-“

“Can you come here?” Kageyama interrupts, voicing the thought immediately as it pops into his brain. “To look at her? That way she won’t have to travel and she… she likes you-“ he almost bites his own tongue as he says it, but it _is_ true – Carrot _adores_ Hinata.

“Oh-“

Hinata’s soft noise of surprise sobers Kageyama and pops his bubble of hope immediately. Shit. That probably wasn’t even an option was it? That had to have sounded entirely too demanding, just asking for Hinata to come to his home and see Carrot at the drop of a hat, like he was Kageyama’s personal-

“I can do that,” Hinata says, once again shattering Kageyama’s train of thought.

“You… can?” Kageyama asks, feeling somewhat dubious. This sounded too good to be true.

“Sure, the practice has a car for home visits,” Hinata says, and Kageyama can envision the nonchalant shrug to go along with the casual words. “The boss gets a little particular about it – something about the cost of gas, I don’t know – so it is quite a bit more expensive than just an appointment-“

“I don’t care about how much it costs,” Kageyama butts in, his little bubble of hope once again swelling in his chest. “I just want to make sure she’s okay.”

“Well… okay, sure, if you want me to. It can’t be straight away, I need to go into theatre for a bit, but I’ll call when I’m leaving, alright?”

“Theatre…?” Oh, right. Hinata was, technically, a surgeon as well. It wasn’t all just booster shots and diets for him. Kageyama fiddles with the carpet fibres idly, mouth pursing. Not for the first time, he wonders if he’s demanding a little too much of Hinata’s time – but, equally, Hinata never seems to say no. “I’d appreciate that,” he manages at last. “Should I do anything in the meantime?”

“Make sure she has plenty of water and take away her tray for now.”

Kageyama blinks. “Take it away?”

“Yeah, I want a urine sample, and I’m not going to get one if she keeps going in her tray. It’s only until I get there later, so it won’t be for that long. Just take it up, offer her water – try to get her to actively drink, if you can.”

“Can she have milk?” Kageyama asks hopefully. He’s not entirely sure how he’ll get Carrot to drink a lot of water, but milk she definitely would.

A pause. “Is it cat milk?”

“… It can be?”

Hinata sighs down the line. “She can have _cat milk,”_ he says, sounding amused. “Don’t give her cow’s milk or we’ll have another set of problems. And _try_ not to make it a habit.”

“I won’t,” Kageyama sulks. It’s half a lie. He had been quietly hopeful cat milk could be Carrot’s new treat, to make up for all the food she wasn’t getting anymore, but now Hinata phrases it like that… it probably wouldn’t be the best addition to her diet.

“And you’ll call when you’re leaving?” He checks, grunting a little as he clambers to his feet. Best find his keys so he can run to the store for the _correct_ milk.

“I’ll call,” Hinata promises. “I can’t give you an exact time – sorry, it’s too hard to predict things like that – but it will be this afternoon. But if anything else happens and you’re really worried, just call to bring her here, alright?”

“Fine,” Kageyama grunts, half distracted as he wanders around the flat gathering the essentials. “Wait, hang on,” he says suddenly, as a disturbing thought occurs to him. He flings his free hand out to brace against the wall as he balances to stuff his feet into his shoes. “You’re not going to come round splattered in… _blood_ or anything are you?” He really hopes not. That’ll do nothing for poor Carrot’s stress levels, and he himself might just faint before Hinata even gets through the door.

Hinata bursts into laughter on the other end of the line “What? No! What do you think I am, a butcher?”

“I don’t know! Aren’t surgeries… _messy?”_

“Can be,” Hinata snickers, still sounding highly amused. “But no, I’ll be clean, _good_ _grief_ … and now I really have to go – I’ll call later.”

There’s a lot of noise over the line suddenly – more voices, some muffled bangs that sound like doors, and possibly a dog barking in amongst all the din. Right, of course. Hinata is busy.

“Later,” Kageyama murmurs, hating the little thrill of excitement that zips up his spine.

Hinata is coming round to see _Carrot_ , because she’s _ill,_ he tells himself viciously. Don’t be so ridiculous.

He ends the call before Hinata can bid farewell properly in return.

* * *

True to his word, a few hours later Hinata does call, and when Kageyama opens the door for him not forty minutes later, he is standing in his doorway clean as a whistle, his usual green scrubs immaculate beneath the light jacket he’s thrown on over it.

“No blood!” he chirps in lieu of a proper greeting, and Kageyama rolls his eyes, standing back to allow him access into the flat. Hinata shuffles through, shifting the large, rectangular plastic box he’s holding by its handle so it doesn’t smash Kageyama in the kneecaps.

“Well done,” Kageyama drawls, nodding vaguely when Hinata points towards the depths of the flat, silently asking if that’s where he should go.

Following Hinata down the hall and ushering him into the living room, Kageyama watches as the relaxed, almost casual air around Hinata – who gawps openly around the flat in wide-eyed curiosity – disappears entirely to be replaced with his usual professional stance once he lays eyes on Carrot, currently curled up on the sofa.

It’s not that he becomes cold, or too clinical, Kageyama muses, as he watches Hinata bend slowly to place the box gently on the floor beside the sofa so as to not startle Carrot. But almost like he… straightens himself. Boxes away his silliness so he can perform, do his job with grace and efficiency, without sacrificing too much of his personable nature. It’s sort of admirable, in its own way.

Carrot makes a soft, chirruping noise when she realises that she’s being approached – lifting her head from the sofa cushions and flicking an ear. Barely a second passes from her noticing Hinata, starting to crouch down in front of her, before she’s on her feet and stumbling across the cushions towards him, a purr already bubbling in her throat.

Kageyama tries his best not to pout. He hasn’t heard her purr in _days,_ and Hinata is here for three minutes and already she’s rumbling? She hadn’t even purred when he gave her milk – she had drained every bowl she had been offered, of course – but she didn’t _purr._

“Why are _you_ her favourite?” he grumbles, folding his arms huffily. “You stick needles in her and tell her she’s fat.”

“Animals have good senses, Kageyama. They know a good person when they see one,” Hinata replies primly, a little of his professional façade slipping as he grins wickedly and tickles Carrot under the chin. “Am I your favourite, Pumpkin?” he coos to Carrot’s increasing purr, “You like me more than your Dad, huh?”

Something about that line, said in that silly, gentle voice, renders Kageyama’s knees absolutely useless, and so, with shaking legs, he totters to the other side of the sofa to sit down. Part of him is still almost sick with worry, the feeling a heavy, relentless weight in his stomach – Carrot had spent much of the last few hours alternating between wandering around the flat wailing for her tray, or drinking milk when he could convince her to do so. Getting settled on the sofa had only happened about fifteen minutes ago, shortly after Hinata called to say he was on his way.

And yet, it’s so much easier to feel calmer watching Carrot, still a lot more subdued than she normally would be, cosying up to Hinata. Kageyama looks on, as Hinata drags his box towards him – close to a toolbox in resemblance, now he’s paying attention to it – and opens the top, rummaging around inside for his stethoscope.

He balls a fist and presses it to his mouth, as Hinata listens to Carrot’s heart and chest, giggling quietly when she keeps purring and interrupting his work. It was just… too sweet. Too sweet and almost too domestic, watching Hinata work in his own living room, relaxed and like he belonged there, lit by soft lamp lighting instead of the harsh artificial clinical lights of the practice. He looks softer, all coppers and sweet greens, as he runs his hands along Carrot and checks her over.

He’s so lost in simply staring that when Carrot mewls – loud and protesting – when Hinata reaches the area where she’s sore, he almost slips from the sofa cushions, he jolts so badly.

“Well, she has a bladder,” Hinata says, eyes skyward as he concentrates on whatever he’s feeling. Carrot doesn’t protest again, but she does squirm, her purring stopping instantly.

“She’s _supposed_ to have a bladder!” Kageyama hisses, more waspishly than intended – his embarrassment from his blatant staring transforming quickly into frustration. “Wait-“ he mutters, as all his annoyance drains suddenly and dizzying concerns floods in its place, leaving him feeling vaguely light-headed. “Wait does that mean she’s blocked?”

“Nope,” Hinata says, entirely too casually, and he drops his hands from Carrot’s sides to route around in his box some more. “It’s normal sized and soft, and blocked bladders in female cats are _really_ rare anyway. I meant she has a bladder that I can feel, as opposed to before, when it was completely empty. This time I can get a sample.”

“A sample?” Kageyama repeats, and then his eyebrows shoot up when Hinata emerges from his box rummaging with yet another needle and syringe. _“Now_ what are you going to do?”

“Have you got a table?” Hinata asks instead, looking around the room. He spots the small table off to the side and points at it. “Is that one okay?”

“Okay for what?” Kageyama demands, completely baffled, as Hinata reaches forward and gathers Carrot into his arms, where she sits neatly, looking entirely too pleased at being held.

Hinata doesn’t reply straight away, getting to his feet with a grunt – entirely unnecessary, Carrot is ill, she doesn’t need her weight poked at right now – and meanders over to the table, depositing Carrot on top. He waves for Kageyama to join him and gestures at Carrot, fiddling with the syringe in his hands.

“I need you to hold her upright so I can get to her bladder,” he instructs, sticking the needle cap between his teeth and tugging it free – Kageyama suppresses a groan – “hold her standing to your front, head this way, that’s it… and just keep her there.”

Kageyama exchanges a bewildered look with Carrot as he holds her – still standing on the table - to his torso, her head almost tucked into the crook of his right arm. “Now what?” He demands, hopelessly confused, as Hinata reaches out with his left hand to feel around Carrot’s abdomen, just between her back legs.

Hinata doesn’t reply, just shifts the plastic cap between his teeth around in thought until he stops moving his hand, holding on tightly. Carrot squirms, but he steels his wrist so he doesn’t lose his grip. “Keep her there,” he repeats, mumbling in concentration, and then… sticks the needle into her side.

Kageyama’s eyes bug out and threaten to pop out of their sockets as he watches it go in – Carrot, to her credit, didn’t even seem to notice – and feels his mouth drop open when Hinata pulls back on the plunger and an orangey-yellow liquid starts filling the syringe chamber.

“I don’t think blood is supposed to look like that,” he wheezes, feeling panic start to build in a crescendo between his temples again. Great. Carrot has yellow blood. That had to be bad. She was definitely dying, the internet didn’t mention anything about _yellow blood_ but maybe that was a really rare symptom and of course his cat had to be the medical marvel with the fucking luminous blo-

“It’s not blood,” Hinata says, derailing the train wreck of thought and withdrawing his needle – the whole process only taking a few seconds. He cocks an eyebrow at him, giving him a strange look. Dropping his hand from Carrot’s abdomen and recapping his needle, he says, sounding entirely too amused, “it’s urine.”

“It’s piss?” Kageyama flicks his eyes from the syringe to Carrot and back again. Well, that made more sense, he supposes. “How did you… do that?”

“Stuck the needle into her bladder,” Hinata explains, his voice shaking with suppressed giggles. “It’s called a cystocentesis.”

“Mmhm,” Kageyama nods, voice very high and rather thin, a little light headed from the whiplash of feeling relieved Carrot didn’t have radioactive blood to the wonder – and mild disgust – of finding out that you can just… take urine. Straight from a cat. He glances down at Carrot, who has sat down in the interim and is gazing up at him, looking equally nonplussed.

Hinata drops his syringe of urine into his box and starts rifling around for something else. “I’ll test it when I get back to the practice,” he says over his shoulder, as he starts pulling bottles and syringes and other paraphernalia out. “I want to see if she has an infection – in which case I’ll probably send it off for external testing and then get her on some antibiotics.”

Kageyama nods along vaguely before he stops and frowns. “So…” he says slowly, processing this, “she… has a uti.”

“Probably,” Hinata confirms, returning with an armful of what looks like medication and another needle.

“She seems too sore to just have an infection…” Kageyama protests, scowling dubiously. Carrot leans into his body and he wraps his arms around her, lifting her easily. It’s somewhat nice, to be able to pick her up with ease rather than a grunt, but he won’t admit that to Hinata right now.

Carrot snuggles in close, delighting in being held, though she doesn’t purr – just simply buries her face into Kageyama’s jumper, like she’s hiding from the world.

Kageyama’s heart twinges, and he holds her closer, stroking one hand down her ample side. “She’s sad,” he says pointedly to Hinata, unable to keep the slight whine out of his voice.

“Of course she is, have you ever had a uti?” Hinata asks with his eyebrows raised, “they hurt!”

Kageyama opens his mouth to reply – because _yes_ , he has – when the… _implication_ of what Hinata has just said hits him and he flits his gaze down to Hinata’s-

And then right back up again, his face combusting.

“Anyway, I’m going to give her some more pain relief now and give you some to give to her once a day from tomorrow,” Hinata continues, completely oblivious to Kageyama’s tomato impression. “Just to keep her comfy. And don’t make that face, it’s a liquid so it’s really easy to administer-“

“ _Another_ injection?” Kageyama interrupts, snapping back to reality. He doesn’t care about what medication he has to give her – Carrot’s so laid back he can find a way – and he nods at the syringe in Hinata’s hand. “She’s going to be a pin cushion!”

“Would you rather her be in pain?” Hinata shoots back, pointedly, dropping the rest of the medication onto the table and approaching Carrot from behind. But, instead of asking Kageyama to shift or move his grip so she can get to her back, he pinches her skin, pulling it into a little tent and slips the needle inside.

Carrot flicks her tail, but otherwise doesn’t seem to notice.

“Why was that one not in her back?”

“Different drug,” Hinata explains, already turning back to his box to tidy up his mess of used syringes and wrappers. “The instructions for medication are on the label – I set it up before I left – so start that from tomorrow, and I’ll call you as soon as I’ve got some results from the lab. Might be tomorrow for the in-house results, and a few days for the external… but once I’ve got all the results in, I can put her on the right antibiotic plan…”

Kageyama hums quietly to show he’s somewhat listening, giving Carrot one last reassuring squeeze before bending slowly to place her back on the floor when she starts to wiggle in his arms. She lands on her feet neatly, stretching in a long arc, before meandering back to the sofa, clearly eager to curl back up on the cushions.

(And sulk probably, not that Kageyama can blame her.)

Hinata is still nattering – something about bacteria and resistances, Kageyama is only half listening – as he stands, gripping his box in one hand, and starts to make for the door.

“Thank you,” Kageyama blurts out before he can get too far down the corridor, cutting off Hinata’s germ spiel. “For… you know, coming all the way here.”

Hinata blinks, readjusting the grip on his box, before he smiles, all soft and pudding warm. Kageyama’s heart flips right over in his chest. Did he have to look so… sweet and charming right there in his hallway?

“It’s no trouble,” Hinata says, waving his free hand. “I’d rather make sure Carrot is okay. I was worried when Yachi told me about your appointment cancelling.”

Kageyama raises a disbelieving eyebrow. _“You_ were worried?”

“Vets can get worried too! Especially when one of their regular clients makes emergency appointments and then cancels them right away,” Hinata replies, with a pointed look, shuffling until he’s by the front door, his hand on the handle. “Anyway, I’m pretty sure she just has a uti, so try not to worry too much – I’ll get the results to you asap once I have them-“

“Do you want a drink?” Kageyama blurts suddenly, cutting him off.

Hinata blinks.

Kageyama blinks back, and then resists the urge to smack his hand against his face. You’re supposed to offer a guest a drink when they _arrive,_ not when they’re about to _leave_. But he had zeroed in on Hinata’s hand on the door handle and panicked. There’s just… something about Hinata, wrapped up in a light jacket and away from his professional setting, real and solid in his house, that made Kageyama want the experience to continue for a little longer.

“Maybe next time,” Hinata soothes with a winning grin, and when Kageyama frowns at him he has the audacity to wink. “I’m sure you’ll be calling me back here at some point in the future – but I really do need to go, or the sample won’t be viable.”

“I… sure,” Kageyama croaks, forcing his tongue to move and vocal cords to co-operate. He should focus on saying goodbye, but his brain is stuck in a loop on that _wink._

“Bye Carrot!” Hinata calls over his shoulder when Kageyama remains immobile, and receives a warbling chirp in return from the depths of the flat.

Hinata has the door open and closed before Kageyama realises it, and by the time he springs back to awareness, the vet is gone and Carrot is slinking back up the hallway, nose twitching as she looks for her favourite person.

Kageyama shares a look with his cat, before thudding his forehead against the wood of his front door with a drawn out groan.

It’s only later, once he’s checking his supplies of fish (Hinata had called to say he was prescribing Carrot a course of antibiotic tablets, and that he could give them to her in a _small_ amount of fish), that Kageyama remembers to tidy away the items he’d left out on the counter for Hinata’s visit, forgotten in his rush to get Carrot seen to.

He tips away the remaining dregs of coffee from the coffee press, dumping it in the sink to be washed properly later, and grabs the selection of biscuits he’d laid out on a plate. A bit stale, but still edible, he laments, as he pads his way to his guitar, nibbling on one as he goes.


	4. Chapter Four: 4kg

“Well would you look at that?”

Hinata smiles down at the reading on the scales as Carrot settles down on top of them, folding her tail neatly over her paws.

Four kilograms, at long last.

“… Oh,” Kageyama says slowly, in a small amount of shock. He blinks down at the reading, then up at Carrot, who’s purring – obliviously happy as usual – and then at Hinata, who’s beaming at him with such a wide and sunny smile, Kageyama feels his knees go a bit weak.

“Congratulations Pumpkin!” Hinata cheers, tickling Carrot under her chin. Carrot’s purrs increase in volume immediately and start to sound clogged as drool starts to build and dribble down the sides of her mouth. The drooling at appointments is a new addition – beginning shortly after her uti cleared up. Maybe she’s just hungry, Kageyama really has no idea.

“Are you _sure_ that’s normal?” Kageyama asks, wrinkling his nose in mild disgust as Carrot shakes her head when her mouth gets too wet and sends spittle flying. Hinata doesn’t seem bothered at all.

(Privately, Kageyama is extremely grateful that Carrot doesn’t ever drool at home with him. It’s the one thing he doesn’t feel any amount of jealousy for – because it’s _gross.)_

“She’s happy!” Hinata insists, leaning down to let Carrot rub her head enthusiastically all over his face. “Aren’t you, Pumpkin? Got down to a nice healthy weight and now you look beautiful, don’t you? Gorgeous girl, yes you are…”

“You really can stop calling her Pumpkin now, she’s not… fat anymore,” Kageyama grits out for what feels like the umpteenth time, his voice going strangled at the horrible sight of Hinata going all gooey and silly with his cat. What was once annoying at the very beginning is now just… painfully endearing. It makes him want to tear his heart out of his chest and, at the same time, stand there and let it swell tightly against his ribcage.

“Are you not a Pumpkin anymore?” Hinata coos at Carrot, scooping her up into his arms. “A beautiful Carrot, yes.” Carrot’s purrs increase tenfold, if that’s possible, and she nestles into his hold, looking absolutely delighted.

Kageyama feels like his ribs might crack under the pressure.

“N-now… what,” he manages to force out, and he cringes at how abnormal and strangled his voice sounds. So he clears his throat, shakes his head, and tries to force his thoughts to cooperate. He _needs_ to stop staring at Hinata’s forearms where they bunch nicely underneath Carrot’s (healthy) weight-

“Now what?” he blurts out again, much louder this time.

“Hmm?” Thankfully, Hinata doesn’t seem to notice the volume, just blinks over at him, simply distracted from where Carrot was burying her face under his chin. Big brown eyes stare at Kageyama, nonplussed, before realisation seems to finally spark and Hinata jolts.

“Oh! So I recommend keeping her on the diet food for a little bit longer. I’ll work out a maintenance amount for you. That way she won’t lose any more weight. Then… it’s up to you! You can keep her on that, or switch her back over to her old food. Just…” he breaks off and his face splits into a teasing grin. “Don’t start feeding her mountains again, okay?”

“You said that wasn’t my fault,” Kageyama mumbles. He feels petulance beginning to build within him and grabs onto it gratefully. He lets the childish emotion decrease the pressure in his chest, until he feels like he can speak again with some semblance of normalcy. “So when do we need to come back?”

“You don’t have to, not until her next booster shot,” Hinata replies, turning his attention back to Carrot, who is now licking his chin. “If you’ve got weighing scales at home, you can always keep an eye on her that way. I don’t need to take any more measurements, so…”

Hinata’s voice fades out in Kageyama’s head as he slowly takes in this information.

They were done. No more appointments. No more weigh-ins. No more visits – unless Carrot was ill and Kageyama would never wish to see that _ever_ again, even if he did want to… did want to-

See Hinata again.

Folding his arms to repress the urge to tear something to pieces in his frustration, Kageyama gnaws at his bottom lip and tries, and fails miserably, to avoid watching pathetically as Hinata cuddles his cat.

This really was not _fair._

He didn’t even _like_ Hinata when he first met him! He was annoying and smug and implied Kageyama was a bad pet owner! _And_ he was only meant to be temporary! But then Carrot had become smitten with him from the moment she laid eyes on him, and Kageyama should have known then that he was doomed.

Because Hinata isn’t smug, and he doesn’t think Kageyama is a bad pet owner, and he’s certainly not temporary - not anymore. He’s charming and personable and gives Kageyama far more time than he ought to. He bent over backwards for Carrot when she was ill and Kageyama is… just about as smitten with him as Carrot is, he supposes. Even when Hinata is being annoying.

Kageyama watches, silent and tormented, as Hinata slowly drops Carrot back onto the table and reaches for her carrier, no doubt trying to get the appointment to come to a close. He’s busy, after all, and there are a lot more people than just Kageyama that are demanding his time, and yet Kageyama finds himself scrabbling for any reason at all to make this last longer.

Because he doesn’t want this to be the last weigh-in. He doesn’t want to go home with no appointment in his diary other than Carrot’s next booster – which is far too many months away now.

Carrot chirps and curls her tail over her back, trotting into her carrier obediently because she’s a good girl and completely oblivious to the fact that she won’t see her favourite person for months and Kageyama is still _thinking_ but he can’t come up with _anything-_

“So! Any worries, just let me know. I mean, I’m sure you will, but if you follow those instructions, you should-“

“Do you like coffee?” Kageyama blurts out, cutting Hinata off.

There’s a beat of silence.

 _Oh_ , Kageyama thinks in quiet despair, _I didn’t mean to say that_. He was supposed to ask something about Carrot, something that would cause a reason to come back that wouldn’t involve any medication or needles. Some _excuse,_ like claw clipping, or her teeth, or her nose wasn’t wet enough… not if Hinata likes _coffee._

“I do,” Hinata replies, slowly, and he’s using _that_ voice again. That one where he sounds amused, eyes twinkling, but like he’s indulging Kageyama nonetheless. Like no matter what Kageyama says, he will be patient with him.

Kageyama really shouldn’t like it as much as he does.

He unfolds his arms, flapping his hands awkwardly by his sides, and thinks wildly about the words that are stuck in his throat that he wants to ask so badly but _can’t._

Just ask him for coffee. Hinata’s nice _and_ he likes coffee. He’ll probably say yes to coffee, just ask him to go for coffee, and you can see him again-

No. Hinata is his vet. Hinata is a professional and Kageyama is his client and this is wildly inappropriate. No matter how lonely Kageyama might be sometimes he can’t just. Ask his vet out on a coffee date. Even if he is handsome and charming and his cat is absolutely in love with him.

Hinata tilts his head at him, waiting patiently and smiling softly, his eyes pudding warm and gooey, and Kageyama stalks forward, face ablaze, to grab at Carrot’s carrier.

“Just checking,” Kageyama grits out, feeling shame prickle all over his skin.

He stands, nods at Hinata stiffly, and makes for the door, embarrassment weighing heavily in his stomach like iron.

“Oh, I see…” Hinata mumbles, and Kageyama can almost swear in vibrant hope that he looks disappointed for a moment, before Hinata is crossing the room to the door. Reaching it first, he opens it, allowing Kageyama to step through. “I’ll see you soon, Kageyama,” he says, with that same smile, as Kageyama crosses through the doorway.

At first he is resolute in not looking back at Hinata as he crosses the waiting area, but then his will crumbles and Kageyama turns around. Hinata is still standing in the doorway, still smiling, with his eyebrows slowly raised in question.

“Thank you,” Kageyama mumbles, entirely too solemn for a routine weight check, but he can’t help it.

It feels as though something has ended.

Hinata inclines his head at him, and Kageyama whirls back around before he can say anything even more dramatic in return, stalking for the door. A woman sitting in one of the waiting area’s chairs gives him a strange look, which he dutifully ignores, as he secures his grip around Carrot’s carrier and leaves the practice.

Standing outside in the sudden cold, the late autumn breeze nipping at his cheeks, Kageyama fiddles clumsily with his car keys. It takes him entirely too much time to unlock his car and slide Carrot’s carrier onto the backseat, strapping her into place. As he moves to shut the door, his head heavy and full of entirely too many thoughts, two golden eyes peek out at him through the slats in the plastic.

Kageyama gazes back at Carrot, sighing sadly. Realistically (and hopefully), it’s not very likely either of them will be back at the veterinary office before the routine annual check-up. And in that time, Hinata could forget about them, lost in mire of hundreds of other cases he would see, or maybe he’ll leave the practice entirely. Find a new job somewhere more exciting.

He slams the door shut with entirely too much force, grumbling out an apology to Carrot, even though she cannot hear him, and slaps his palms against his face, willing himself to snap out of it.

Sliding into the driver’s seat, Kageyama starts the ignition, turns the radio on loud to blast out his thoughts, and slides into reverse gear. Then he glances out of the window, entirely intending to look at his wing mirror, and spots Hinata through the large windows of the veterinary office’s waiting area.

He’s clearly visible – of course he is, he’s so _bright_ – smiling and laughing and chatting happily to an old lady who has a dog about three times her size.

Kageyama stares at him, nearly stalls his car, and then reverses out of the parking lot at a speed that is not exactly advised.

He makes it halfway down the road before it occurs to him that the song playing out over the radio is one of his own.

Silencing it irritably, he revs the engine harder to make up for loss of noise.

* * *

A few days later, Kageyama finds himself sitting at his office desk, a list of veterinary practices in front of him and his phone in hand, wondering if this is about to become one of his more dramatic decisions.

But the thing is, he’s been simply unable to function normally throughout the day without feeling the urge to grab his phone, call Hinata, and ask him to the coffee shop.

Which is ridiculous. And Kageyama doesn’t know whether it’s panic that he might not see him again for months or that the idea has just gotten stuck in his head, or what. But this can’t continue. For one, he isn’t getting any work done - which isn’t very sustainable in the long run - and two, this is _not appropriate._

Hinata is his vet. He cannot ask him on a date. Never mind that Kageyama has never asked anybody on a date, and the whole thing would be a shambles anyway; it simply cannot happen.

So, he’s decided to cut himself loose.

He’s going to move to a different veterinary practice.

It’s further away, and entirely less convenient, but it will mean a fresh start. Or something. He’s kind of dreading having to introduce Carrot to a new vet but the situation requires it. He needs to move on. At this rate, he’s either going to snap and do something he’ll regret – like feed Carrot more food just so he can have an excuse to take her in early, or he’s going to make an absolute idiot of himself at the next check-up. Or both.

Kageyama drags in a breath through his nose, steels himself, and dials the Karasuno Veterinary Practice for the final time – to get Carrot’s medical notes sent over to the new practice.

He debates, once he’s ended the conversation with a receptionist, who thankfully had not been Yachi, (and he’s relieved he didn’t have to say goodbye to _two_ people he quite liked) calling Miya next, and getting his arrangement cut off.

He’s no longer Hinata’s client. He doesn’t have to pay for anything anymore.

But he can’t. Kageyama may not be using the vet’s services any more, but he still wants him to eat well. And have the coffee that he apparently likes even if Kageyama can’t share it with him-

No. Stop.

Kageyama smacks his hands against his cheeks, startling Carrot who is curled up in one of her cat beds in the corner of the office, and gets to his feet. He’s done. He’s changed vets – even if it did feel like cutting a hole in his chest to do so – and it’s time for a fresh start.

Carrot clambers out of her bed to follow him, tail looped up over her back as she trots in his wake, keeping close to his heels as he wanders down the hallway and into the living room. As Kageyama sits down and pulls his guitar into his lap, Carrot leaps onto the sofa cushions and jumps up neatly onto the back of the sofa to drape herself across it, her face close to Kageyama’s ear.

Her movements were so fluid now – grace instead of waddling - and Kageyama silently sends off one last thought of thanks to the vet that gave her freedom back. He strums at his guitar and lets a melody overtake him as Carrot starts to purr quietly in his ear.

The rest of autumn passes in a cloud of gloom.

Kageyama could pretend it’s the weather – the chill settling in, the falling leaves, the constant blanket of clouds obscuring the sun in the sky. But the truth is, these things have never bothered him. In fact, he normally prefers the colder months. He likes wrapping up in jumpers, drinking hot drinks all day and curling up on the sofa with a blanket and Carrot and writing music with his guitar.

For the first time in years, winter sets in, and Kageyama is _miserable._

He gets up in the mornings, glares at the still-dark sky outside his windows, tips a weighed-out ration of food into Carrot’s bowl, and glowers some more over a morning cup of milky tea. He’s given up trying to cut back – it doesn’t seem worth it now. He fills his mugs with hot milk, fills Carrot’s bowl with cat milk, and then scowls some more, imagining the scolding for it that he’ll never hear again.

Gone are the usual peppy pop songs he writes in his studio to sell. He’s bulked out his catalogue with a string of slow, melancholy melodies fitting for dreary ballads and pining love songs. His business partners are quite confused by the sudden change in material, but the songs sell nonetheless – apparently that sort of thing sells well over the cold winter months.

Kageyama pours his upset into sad songs for money, then comes home every evening, flops on the sofa, throws a blanket over himself and pulls his guitar onto his lap. Carrot joins him eventually, crawling across the soft throw until she sprawls across his feet, curling up into a little ball.

Kageyama looks at her during one of these evenings, at her gleaming, bright orange fur, and for a moment he sees ginger hair instead. Stupid, bright ginger hair and silly green scrubs and the warmest eyes- Kageyama strums at his guitar angrily, and feels his heart crack a little further in two.

Carrot shifts in her ball, disturbed by the noise, and digs her claws into his shin through the blanket.

She wouldn’t do that to Hinata, he thinks miserably. Hinata, who could poke her with all the needles he wanted, and she would never stop being in love with him.

He wonders if she misses him.

He wonders if Hinata misses Carrot.

He wonders if it’s possible to mourn for a relationship you never even had because you couldn’t ask the guy you thought was cute out on a coffee date because it would’ve been too _weird._

Kageyama plucks at his guitar strings with one hand, and flings his other one down to the floor to grope around until his fingers find purchase on the glass he had placed there earlier. He brings it up, sips at the milk inside gloomily, and makes a mental note to buy more lactaid, before dumping his empty glass back down on the floor and shifting to hold his guitar properly.

Plaintive, sad notes float into the air as he starts playing in full, letting the noise in his head and the heaviness in his chest translate into music. By his feet, Carrot stretches out again, lying her body fully across his legs and opens her eyes to gaze at him.

Kageyama gazes back, and thinks she looks almost as sad as he feels.

“Maybe something a little… happier,” he murmurs. He doesn’t believe the notion at all, even as he says it aloud, but… music could achieve all sorts of things. A cheerful little tune might just be enough to lift his spirits from the permanent mire they’ve been stuck in, if only for a little while.

He strums his guitar a little faster, a little higher in the notes – the tempo quicker, the cadence catchy. By his feet, Carrot lifts her head fully and watches him, ears pricked up high as he starts to sing.

_“Fat cat song… This is the fat cat song…”_

Carrot chirrups, shuffles across the blanket until she reaches his upper legs, and starts kneading her paws softly into his thigh. Kageyama feels the edges of his mouth tilt – for the first time in weeks – and continues to sing, voice gaining volume.

_“She’s big and soft and sweet… She’s the roundest carrot you’ll ever meet… This is the fat cat song…”_

The guitar gets a little louder, the music more vibrant, as Kageyama sits up properly, and Carrot comes with and settles in his lap, so he can play with gusto.

_“She’s large and cute and always hungry… She’s the best cat in all the country… This is the fat cat song…”_

Carrot starts to purr, her rumbles mixing with the twang of the guitar strings.

_“She’s such a good pet, but she went to the vet…”_

Kageyama pauses – just for a second – as he stumbles over the lyrics, faltering just slightly before he sucks in a fortifying breath and forges onwards.

_“But she went to the vet, and he told her she was round… and even though he was worked into the ground, he didn’t want her to gain one more pound…”_

He flicks his gaze down at Carrot, who stares up at him adoringly.

_“And how she loved him… she didn’t want to be slim, but oh how she loved him…”_

He tightens his grip on the guitar’s neck.

_“Even through needles and insults, it just didn’t matter… He only wanted to ensure she didn’t get fatter, and oh how she loved him…”_

Carrot digs her paws even deeper into his thigh, her kneading getting more exuberant, and her eyes shining happily in contented bliss.

_“Loved him more than her owner, who would do anything for her… perhaps it was such a delight, to see someone else so bright…”_

A flash of a smile. Gleaming red hair. Mischievous, glittering eyes.

_“This the fat cat song… the fat cat song… but turns out she wasn’t fat for long.”_

The music ends shortly after his voice falls silent, a few more notes peeling out of his guitar before Kageyama stills his fingers, resting his hand on the wood. Carrot stops kneading as he finishes playing, tilting her head at him in question, still rumbling quietly.

Kageyama gazes down at her, slowly lowering his guitar to the floor beside him and leaning forwards, gathering his beloved cat up into his arms. Carrot burrows close, burying her face into the crook of his neck, her little wet nose pressing against his skin. Her purrs, never stopping, vibrate through him, comforting and grounding and he buries his face into her fur. He closes his eyes so he doesn’t have to stare at the shade.

It’s all so stupid.

You can’t be heartbroken for a relationship you never even had.

* * *

It only occurs to him, as he’s strolling down to Miya’s coffee shop first thing on a particularly windy morning, just for an excuse to leave the flat for an hour, that he hasn’t paid his tab for a couple of weeks. It wasn’t that he neglected to pay – Miya simply hadn’t called with a total. He doubts Miya is giving away coffee for free, so he can only assume Hinata isn’t going to the shop anymore.

Maybe he really did leave and find a job elsewhere. Hinata had no way of knowing it was _him_ paying for all those drinks, so why else would he stop going? It was free coffee.

The thought that Hinata may have left Karasuno is both terrible and weirdly comforting. Part of Kageyama wants to envision Hinata working there forever – as happy as he looked the last time he saw him through the waiting room windows – and part of Kageyama is relieved he didn’t stay. Knowing he left first, before Hinata could leave him… well it was something, he supposes. A small amount of sweetness to a situation otherwise so bitter.

Miya is at the counter when he steps up to order, and he’s tempted – he’s _so_ tempted – to just ask him if he’d heard from Hinata in any way so that he can know for sure why Hinata’s stopped ordering, but he doesn’t. There’s nothing to gain, and Kageyama is tired of feeling miserable.

“Thought you were cuttin’ back on yer milk,” Miya says, as he prepares Kageyama’s preferred coffee – even milkier than he normally ordered it.

Kageyama shrugs moodily. “Changed my mind.”

Miya hums, like perhaps he wants to say something but professionalism is keeping him in check. He slides the cup across the counter once he’s finished and smiles at him, a twinkle in his eyes. “Well, as long as yer happy with it. Have a good day now, Kageyama.”

There’s something… _implied_ in his voice, and Kageyama frowns at the knowing lilt and the sly smile on Miya’s face as he turns to wipe down his machines, ready for the next customer.

But trying to discern it is only going to give him a headache, so Kageyama shakes his head a little, takes a sip of his drink – delicious, as always – and turns away from the counter, wondering whether he should hole up in the shop’s warmth for a while, or go for a particularly long walk, or-

“Kageyama?”

Kageyama turns at the sound of his name, confused, and nearly drops his coffee cup all over Miya’s freshly mopped floor.

It’s Hinata.

As if summoned through thought, it’s _Hinata._

Standing in the line behind him, looking slightly windswept and cherry-cheeked from the wind outside, all wrapped up in a coat and blinking at him with those horribly soft, big brown eyes. And maybe it’s the lighting or the warm wood of the coffee shop interior, or the red tinge to his skin, but Hinata’s hair looks even more orange now than it ever did in his consultation room, and Kageyama has missed it _so much-_

“You’re not in green,” he blurts out, his brain getting away from him before he can put a cork in his thought stream.

Because, indeed, there are no green scrubs poking out of the bottom of Hinata’s coat – just simple jeans. In fact, none of his clothes are green at all, not even his scarf, which is wildly patterned and bursting with colour. It throws Kageyama off – he looks… softer somehow. Cosier. The professional exterior stripped for the man beneath.

“No work today,” Hinata says, laughter in his voice. 

“Oh.” Kageyama dithers, fiddling with the coffee cup in his hands. It’s a good thing there’s nobody else waiting besides Hinata, he thinks distantly, so that he has time to stand here and idle. Even Miya doesn’t seem that eager to take Hinata’s order, having skulked off to the other side of the counter.

“But you’re still a vet?” He asks, in lieu of anything else actually intelligent to say.

“… Yes,” Hinata confirms, after a short pause, his voice shaking with restrained giggles. Then he sobers remarkably fast, and Kageyama is temporarily panicked that Hinata has realised that this is all a bit awkward before he’s saying, “Did I do something to offend you, by the way?”

“… Huh?” Kageyama says eloquently, baffled.

“You switched practices,” Hinata elaborates. He clears his throat and stuffs his hands into his pockets, shuffling a little on the spot. “I heard from Yachi because she had to send over Carrot’s medical notes. I just… wondered, that was all. I thought maybe you had moved at first, but you’re here, so…”

“I didn’t move,” Kageyama cuts in, and then silence falls like a stifling blanket when neither of them offers anything further. He’s torn between excusing himself and leaving the shop before he does something devastatingly humiliating, but also he’s just missed Hinata so _much_ he can’t bring himself to let this chance encounter end.

“I… it was for… other reasons,” he mumbles, just to get something moving again.

The awkwardness in the air doesn’t lift, and Hinata just simply nods his head vaguely, humming quietly. “I see,” he says, quiet, his tone as sceptical as the look on his face. But before Kageyama can say anything more, Hinata drags in a big breath, his face brightening again like he’s flicked on a light switch. “Well, it was nice to see you! I never did get to thank you for all the coffee and food you paid for.”

Kageyama blinks and nearly drops his coffee cup for a second time. “How did you know that was me?” he demands, stunned, and he sends Miya a suspicious squint. Miya ignores him, doing something with a bag of coffee beans and trying to look inconspicuous.

Hinata’s face softens again, looking a lot more like himself than the fake smile he’d plastered on a few seconds before. “I had a hunch,” he murmurs.

Kageyama opens his mouth and then closes it slowly again once he realises that he simply has nothing to say. So Hinata didn’t leave; he simply figured it out, and Kageyama is unsure how to feel about being so obvious. His mind is whirling, trying to come up with some kind of natural conversation starter – something, anything at all, to keep going from this awful, awkward pause when Hinata finally steps up to counter to order his drink.

“Say hi to Carrot for me, by the way,” Hinata pipes up, speaking a little louder to be heard over the coffee machine as Miya gets to work. “She always was one of my favourites.”

There’s a distant tinkling of a bell as a small family enters through the coffee shop door, the noise in the shop rising with chattering voices. Miya slides Hinata’s drink across the countertop, gives Kageyama a pointed look over the vet’s shoulder, and then turns to greet his new customers.

Hinata moves in the direction of the door, giving Kageyama one last small smile over the rim of his cup, when, finally, Kageyama feels the dam break in his chest.

“I was going to ask you on a date!” Kageyama gasps out, the words bursting forth before he can stop himself.

He takes a large gulp of coffee, both for something to do instead of resembling a human shaped tomato, and also to fortify himself under the surprised brown-eyed look that’s aimed his way. Luckily, no-one in the shop except Hinata seems to have heard him, so Kageyama is saved from a little humiliation at least, even as his ears burn hot.

Hinata shuffles a little closer to Kageyama and away from the family at the counter. “Is that why you asked me if I liked coffee?” he questions, eyes wide and curious.

Kageyama takes it as a plus that Hinata hasn’t run off yet, so he takes his chances and jerks his head in a robotic nod.

“And then you… changed practices,” Hinata continues, speaking slowly, like he’s trying to work out Kageyama’s thought process as he goes.

Kageyama’s jaw works as he wonders how truthful he can be. But Hinata isn’t looking at him with scorn or disgust, he’s just standing there in his stupid scarf in every colour but green, with a cup of coffee, looking patient and warm, and Kageyama sighs deeply, shoulders sagging.

“It’s _weird,”_ he says, letting all his regret seep into his tone. If this really is the last time he will ever see Hinata again – a very distinct possibility – then he may as well be honest. Then maybe he can finally, actually move forward. “You can’t ask your vet out on a _date.”_

“But you changed practices,” Hinata points out, unexpectedly, and Kageyama snaps back to attention. “So I’m not your vet anymore, am I?”

“… Oh. No, you’re not…” Kageyama says, voice getting muffled as he starts to pout, a frown creasing his forehead. That was a solid point, actually. Hinata _isn’t_ his vet anymore. But, even so, while it might not be _inappropriate_ anymore, he’s still- “I didn’t know what you’d say,” he admits, doing his best to stop himself from fidgeting on the spot. “And I wanted to avoid-“

“How about I ask you then?” Hinata interrupts, cutting swiftly through Kageyama’s mumbling.

Kageyama’s teeth clack as his jaw snaps shut. Wild, ridiculous hope flares through him. “Huh?”

“Kageyama, can I buy you a coffee?”

For a brief moment, Kageyama’s mind whites out.

Then one of the children in the background yells something at their sibling and the welcoming bell tinkles again as two businessmen enter and the whole place suddenly gets so noisy there’s no _space_ to blank out. He stares down into Hinata’s smiling face, noting dimly now that he’s close that Hinata actually has freckles – little ones, all across the bridge of his nose. His heart squeezes tight. Surely this is a dream. Carrot’s going to wake him up by wailing for breakfast any moment now-

“Are you allowed to do that?” He forces himself to say, distantly proud at how normal he manages to sound. There’s a chance, maybe, that Hinata is just offering to be polite. To simply repay him for all the coffees Kageyama had bought, but he can’t stop himself from checking.

Hinata smiles a little wider, his eyes twinkling. “Well, you did leave, remember? You’re not my client anymore.”

The hope in Kageyama’s belly starts to burn a little brighter.

“So?” Hinata prompts, “Can I buy you a coffee or what?”

“I mean… I already have one…” Kageyama says, lifting his cup to illustrate. He’s feeling too light and airy to really focus on the mistake though, like all the heaviness of the past few weeks has simply evaporated. Lifting up away from his body like the steam curling out of their coffee cups.

Surprisingly – or perhaps not so surprisingly at all – Hinata laughs, a burst of cheer that’s soon drowned out by the overall hubbub of the coffee shop patrons.

“Come on,” he says, jerking his head towards the door with a wry grin, and Kageyama follows, slightly confused, as they slowly ease their way past the throng of people and back outside.

The outside air is a welcome slap of reality – the bite of the cold stinging Kageyama’s cheeks and freezing the breath in his lungs and reminding him that he really is _here._ Standing outside his favourite coffee shop, with his favourite vet, who is possibly asking him on a date - he’s not entirely sure yet - and he really _isn’t_ in bed dreaming with Carrot. Taking another long draught of his coffee to refill some of the heat that the winter air snatched away, he turns to look back down at Hinata, who is standing in front of him with his palm up.

“Give me your phone,” he instructs.

“Why?” Kageyama asks, though he rummages in his pocket for it nonetheless, dropping into Hinata’s waiting palm with a cocked eyebrow. He had forgotten how bossy he could be…

“You want a coffee date right?” Hinata says simply, tapping at Kageyama’s screen with his thumb. His face is the perfect picture of feigned innocence. “You’ll need my number.”

Kageyama nearly faints right there on the spot.

He accepts his phone back when Hinata returns it to him, still smiling, almost on autopilot. For a full minute he is frozen, the winter wind pulling at his hair and whisking the heat away from his coffee, as Hinata stands there, sipping from his own cup and looking like he’s doing nothing particularly special at all.

Except, he’s just invited Kageyama on a coffee date.

Or rather, invited Kageyama to invite _him_ on a coffee date.

Whichever. It doesn’t matter, and Kageyama is about to open his mouth to just clarify one more time, because things like this don’t just _happen._ The vet you’ve become smitten with does not just offer you his phone number when you’ve tried to avoid him - that’s not a _thing-_

“I expect a call,” Hinata says, scattering Kageyama’s thoughts to the wind again. His cheeks look even redder out here, in the bite of the cold. It clashes with his hair horribly. “Not that you’ve ever struggled to call me before, mind.”

And that smile is back, the teasing one, the one that makes Hinata’s eyes glitter with mirth while never sounding like he’s mocking Kageyama. Like he’s simply stating the facts and finding the humour in them. He’s just that sort of person, Kageyama supposes. Someone who genuinely sees the bright side, the warmth in things others don’t. Maybe that’s why he’s such a good vet.

Suddenly, Kageyama wonders how many other people Hinata has done this with. He’s friendly and personable and young – of course he’d find many other people to go on dates with him. Maybe Kageyama is just one in a stream of many, and not actually that special at all.

“You really want to?” He blurts, the need to just _know_ rising like a wave. “Go on a date? With me?”

“Yes,” Hinata says instantly, sounding a touch exasperated. “You’re very cute.”

Then the red in Hinata’s cheeks spreads faster, as his brain catches up to his words, and he buries his face in his coffee cup, ducking his head to avoid Kageyama’s gaze for a moment. Once he resurfaces, after making a show of taking a long, drawn-out sip of his drink, he meets Kageyama’s eye for all of a second before he’s suddenly rocking up and forwards on his toes.

For a moment, Kageyama’s vision is filled with vibrant orange as Hinata leans up close, to plant the smallest, softest kiss on his cheek.

The motion sets every nerve in Kageyama’s body on fire, and it’s _wonderful._ And still rendered motionless, he gawps as Hinata drops back down onto the souls of his feet, shoots him a sunny smile and raises his coffee cup to his lips again to, pointlessly, hide the red in his face.

“See you later Kageyama,” he murmurs, around the rim of his cup, and spins on his heel, walking swiftly and briskly back up the street.

Kageyama stands there, and watches that bright mop of ginger hair bob away, and then feels all of his muscles spring back to life all at once. Heart hammering, he fumbles with his phone, still in his hand, fingers trembling, and tries to open it and get into his contacts one-handed. The list of numbers in his phonebook is so small it doesn’t take long to find the new entry, and a snicker bursts forth at what Hinata had listed his number under.

_Ginger._

“You’re _not_ funny…” Kageyama mutters to himself, a smirk on his face, as he jabs at the contact entry and raises his phone to his ear, listening to the ringtone until the line connects.

“… Really?”

Kageyama’s smirk widens as he watches Hinata stop walking at a distance. He can just about make out the phone pressed to Hinata’s ear.

“Next Friday,” Kageyama says into his phone, no preamble, getting his words out now before they stick like honey to the roof of his mouth. He slowly crosses two fingers over the cardboard sleeve of his coffee cup, listening to the small puff of air that crackles down the phone line.

“Friday,” Hinata agrees, and Kageyama resists the urge to punch the air. “But I’m paying.”

“You’re too generous,” Kageyama says, earnestly, and he twists on his foot and starts walking in the opposite direction. He drains what’s left of his now cold coffee and tosses the empty cup into a bin as he passes.

The wind whistles down the phone speaker. “Says the guy who paid for coffee for weeks.”

“Free appointments,” Kageyama shoots back, his smirk softening into a smile. “Don’t think I didn’t notice.”

“… Touché,” Hinata admits. “But you’re not a client anymore, so don’t expect any more freebies.”

“That’s alright. I guess you can buy me coffee instead.”

* * *

Kageyama stirs the curry in the pot, lowering the heat on the hob with his other hand, and gently nudges Carrot’s curious nose away with the end of his wooden spoon.

“Curry’s not for cats,” he chides for the millionth time.

As always, Carrot pays no attention; she simply sits down on the worktop beside the hob and stares at the pot hopefully. Like she’s hoping today might finally be the day that Kageyama cracks and gives her what she wants.

“You’ve had dinner,” Kageyama tells her. “No more. Hinata will get cross.”

Carrot flicks her ears, looking a little disgruntled, before she suddenly sits up straight, her nose twitching. Ears perked, she stands, looking over her shoulder and out of the kitchen before she jumps down from the counter neatly and trots out of the room. Kageyama watches her go with a frown, wondering what had caught her attention, when the sound of the doorbell rings through the flat.

Ah. That was it. Carrot did always flee whenever there was someone at the door.

Turning the heat right down low and placing a lid on top of his simmering curry, Kageyama washes his hands quickly, briefly debates darting down the hall to check his hair in the bathroom mirror before shaking himself and just heading for the front door. It always lies flat anyway; it can’t look _that_ bad.

Chewing on the inside on his lip to stop a silly smile spreading all over his face, Kageyama opens the door and is met with… a silly smile.

“Hello!” Hinata chirps, standing in the doorway and smiling broadly, a bottle in one hand.

Kageyama opens his mouth to greet him back, when his words are halted by what Hinata is wearing. He’s got his multi-coloured scarf looped around his neck again, but he’s forgone a coat this time, instead wrapped up in a soft looking, deep green jumper. It’s darker than his scrubs, but the colour is so familiar that Kageyama feels his heart twang, just a little.

Like an upside down carrot, he thinks fondly, as he leans forward to give his brand new boyfriend a proper kiss.

Hinata hums, pleased, and Kageyama is just tugging him into the hallway properly so he can shut the door and enjoy some privacy when Hinata pulls away from him. Frowning, Kageyama moves to protest, but then Hinata suddenly calls out, “Hi sweetheart!”

Startled, Kageyama leans his head back a bit, taken aback by this sudden use of a pet name. It’s just a little… sudden. Not _entirely_ unpleasant, but definitely bold and they’ve only been dating officially for a couple of weeks now-

_Mrrraaooowww!_

Kageyama steps fully back from Hinata, eyebrows shooting up, as he spots Carrot appear from the end of the hallway, having crawled out from her hiding place.

As soon as she lays eyes on Hinata, who’s waving at her with a soppy grin on his face, her tail shoots straight up in the air, quivering. She blinks, once, before she’s sprinting down the hall towards him, leaping into his arms just as Hinata crouches down to meet her.

“Oh, I missed you _so much,_ Pumpkin!” Hinata coos, standing upright again with Carrot in his arms.

Loud, ecstatic purrs immediately fill the flat as Carrot rubs her head all over Hinata’s face and chin, planting her paws into the soft fabric of his jumper over his chest and starting to knead. A little bubble of drool starts to build in the corner of her mouth.

“Apparently she missed you too,” Kageyama sighs, wondering whether he should feel put out that he’s being ignored by both cat and boyfriend.

“Have you been good?” Hinata asks Carrot, who’s doing her best to get as close to her favourite person as she possibly can. “Have you been eating properly? Not cheating?”

“I weigh out her food now, thank you,” Kageyama says matter-of-factly, and presses his hand into the small of Hinata’s back to urge him forwards.

“He can be taught,” Hinata whispers to Carrot conspiratorially, and she sticks her nose into his ear.

Kageyama rolls his eyes and ignores this attack on his character, ushering Hinata along until they end up in the living room, where he instructs him to sit and wait.

“There’s a bottle of wine by the front door,” Hinata says, randomly, as he takes his seat on the sofa. He lets Carrot drop neatly into his nap, where she curls up immediately, sticking her paws into where his jumper folds over his stomach and resumes kneading. “I put it down to pick Carrot up,” he elaborates, when Kageyama raises a bemused eyebrow at him.

Carrot purrs a little louder at her name and stuffs her face into Hinata’s jumper, grabbing onto the fabric between her teeth and sucking.

Kageyama stares. “I don’t think that’s normal,” he says, feeling some concern start to prickle. The kneading she’s always done, but the sucking is… definitely new.

“She’s just happy!” Hinata simpers, settling into the sofa cushions and rubbing his finger pads behind Carrot’s ears. “Go fetch the wine, we’re getting reacquainted.”

“Did you come round to have dinner with me or Carrot?” Kageyama mutters to himself as he stomps up the hallway to fetch the bottle that Hinata had indeed left by the front door. He’s slightly cheered to see that it’s one of his favourites at least. He checks on his still-simmering curry while grabbing the wine glasses, satisfied it looks fairly presentable – he’s not the best cook, but Kazuyo-san’s recipe is hard to beat – and meanders back to the living room.

“Do you want a glass now, or…”

The question dies in Kageyama’s throat as he takes in the sight in front of him.

Hinata has reclined all the way back against the cushions, stretching his feet out in front of him to create the biggest lap possible for Carrot to curl up on. She’s given up on her sucking for the moment, simply draping her upper body across Hinata’s torso with her back legs sprawled across his thighs, gazing up at him lovingly as he strokes her side slowly.

“Am I interrupting?” he asks sardonically, though he can’t inject any annoyance into his tone. It’s too hard to feel jealous with how content and warm they both look, spread out on his sofa looking like they’ve always belonged there.

“There’s more than enough room on this sofa for three,” Hinata says, lifting his gaze from Carrot to give Kageyama his attention instead, his smile sharpening from soft to cheeky in an instant.

Kageyama rolls his eyes, but heads for his small table in the corner – already set for dinner – to pour the wine.

“Or four,” Hinata says, bizarrely, when Kageyama sits down next to him and hands him a wine glass.

“What?” Kageyama grunts, baffled, his voice muffled by glass as he takes a sip of wine.

Hinata nods his head at Kageyama’s guitar, sitting in its stand just to the side of the sofa, where it normally rests so it’s in easy reach.

“Can you play?” Hinata asks.

“Of course I can play it. I’m a musician.”

“No, I mean- play it _now.”_

“You… want me to play a song for you,” Kageyama says, speaking slowly, trying to gauge if he had guessed correctly or not. Hinata’s eyes seem to glimmer at him as he smiles even wider, and he gulps down another mouthful of wine, suddenly terribly embarrassed.

“Please?” Hinata asks, cocking his head at him hopefully. “You’ve seen me work so many times. I want to see what you do!”

“I…” Kageyama stops, before he breaks off. Swirls the remaining wine in his glass before draining it and depositing it on the floor with a soft clink. Wordlessly, he reaches over and snags his guitar, pulling it into his lap, and tries not to squirm. It is true – Hinata has never seen what he does for a living, whereas he’s seen Hinata in action so many times, but it’s _different._ Kageyama never plays for anyone in person these days; they just hear his recordings created in a studio.

His only audience has been Carrot for years now.

“You don’t have to.”

Kageyama flicks his eyes up from his guitar strings to Hinata, whose hopeful expression has softened slightly, his brow furrowed.

“I mean… you don’t really _perform,_ right? So you don’t have to, but… I’d really like to hear you play.”

And there’s something about Hinata’s voice, endlessly patient and kind, and how it never fails to loosen Kageyama up, fills him up with warmth, that it makes the embarrassment simply drain away. So Kageyama clears his throat, adjusts his hold on his guitar and settles his fingers over the strings.

“Alright. What do you… want? Music or a song?”

“You _sing_ too?” Hinata asks – squawks – his eyes going incredibly round.

“Well… yes.” Kageyama frowns at him. He may not have the best singing voice - he knows this objectively he has a degree – but he can hold a note. Lots of musicians can; otherwise, how would they get anything done?

“Can you sing the Fat Cat Song?” Hinata all but demands, the words tumbling forth all in a rush.

Kageyama nearly drops his guitar. “Of course you’d ask for that,” he groans up at the ceiling in annoyance.

“It’s about Carrot!” Hinata wheedles, lifting the cat in question a little higher up his torso and waving one of her paws at him. Carrot lets him, naturally, starting to drool contentedly, her eyes shuttered in bliss.

“It’s about-“ Kageyama starts to say, and then cuts himself off. Clearing his throat, he resettles, and gets back into position. Well, Hinata is about to find out anyway.

Hinata sits up straighter on the sofa as he starts to play, drawing his legs up onto the cushions and swivelling so he’s sitting cross-legged, Carrot nestled in the hollow between his thighs. Leaning one arm on the back of the sofa, Hinata turns until he’s facing Kageyama, leaning his temple on his hand and just… watches him. With that hopelessly lovely smile on his face and his sweet toffee pudding eyes, Kageyama has to look away – pretending to concentrate – as he starts to sing the words.

_“Fat cat song… This is the fat cat song…”_

For two long, blissful minutes, there’s nothing except Kageyama’s quiet singing voice and the gentle twangs of his guitar strings as the jaunty, silly music fills the air. And when he finishes, voice tapering off into humming, and then silence, as he wraps up the last few notes of the song, he waits. Doesn’t look up, keeps his gaze on his guitar, tapping his fingers awkwardly against the wood.

“Wow, you really do like gingers, don’t you?”

Kageyama’s head snaps up. “That’s not what I was getting at!” He splutters indignantly, scowling at Hinata’s wicked little smile.

“Hmmm…” Hinata hums, disbelievingly, “bright huh?” And he waggles his fingers by his temple at his hair.

Kageyama feels heat flood into his cheeks, but before he can protest, or feel suitably humiliated, or even get up and stalk off, Hinata leans forward and loops the arm not resting on the back of the sofa around his neck, pulling him close.

“I love it,” Hinata tells him earnestly. “It’s my favourite song.”

And then he kisses him.

Kageyama freezes up for a heartbeat, before he sighs, sliding his guitar to the side and out of the way so he can close a hand around Hinata’s waist and inch closer. He feels Carrot wiggle between them, until her little head is underneath their chins, and scrapes her sandpaper tongue across his jaw.

“Excuse me,” Kageyama mumbles at her, his lips brushing against Hinata’s as he keeps himself close, “Bit busy.”

Hinata breathes out a laugh. “She had you first,” he murmurs, rubbing the tip of his nose across Kageyama’s.

“She loves you more than me,” Kageyama grumbles, but he wraps his free hand around the back of Carrot’s head anyway, feeling her purrs through his palm, as he recaptures Hinata in another kiss.

Carrot wedges herself fully between them, closes her eyes in sheer, untouchable happiness, and purrs louder than she’s ever done before – perfectly and utterly content.

Well, until it was time for dinner.

_The End_

Vet Hinata and Musician Kageyama (and Carrot!) will return in _biscuit crumble_ \- posting from November 21st!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ahhhh we're finally done :') 
> 
> an endless amount of thank-yous to my wonderful friends who gently and lovingly bullied me into writing this and for all of their suggestions - i said it at the beginning but truly half of this fic was all them, i just wrote the words. fat cat song in particular, is for them <3 and extra thank-yous for rox for her help in chapter 3 and extra extra extra thank-yous and endless gratitude AND THE BIGGEST PLATE OF BISCUITS for cupcake who beta'd this for me so wonderfully ;o; <3 <3 <3 and thank-you to everyone who read this and left kudos and comments, i appreciate it all so much!! i'm so happy people liked carrot ;____; see you again in a month!! ;)

**Author's Note:**

> come yell at me on twitter @Emlee_J


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